What Happens in the House STAYS in the House
by Tiger Woody
Summary: Violet's not exactly happy about her mentally unstable cousin staying in her room. And on top of that, her parents are getting divorced, her boyfriends on the verge of discovery, and there's a new baby she doesn't want on it's way.
1. Distractions

**Disclaimer – I don't own AHS**

. . .

It happened at dinner. Good or bad, Violet still wasn't sure. All she knew was that it was totally unexpected.

"Vi, Dad's going to be moving another bed into your room tomorrow," Vivian told her daughter as she gathered her corn into a little pile on the side of her plate. She was really craving those organs Constance had brought over for her . . .

"Why?" Violet asked. "The baby's not due for like, seven months. And there are plenty of extra rooms either way. And babies need cribs."

"Not for the baby, sweetheart," Ben replied. "For your cousin, Lily."

"_Lily_'s coming?" Violet asked annoyed. "Didn't she kill herself like, five years ago?"

"No," Ben said, agitated. "She _attempted_ to kill herself five years ago. And she recently tried again and came _very _close. Her parents are really worried so they're sending her out here for some therapy."

"Why does she have to share a room with me? There are plenty of empty ones."

"Oh come on," Vivian pled. "You and Lily used to be the best of friends back when you were kids."

"That was when we were kids," Violet pointed out.

"Either way," Ben cut in. "She can't sleep in her own room Violet, it's not safe. I need you to watch her for me."

"Great, so I'm babysitting," Violet remarked negatively.

"Come on," Vivian said. "Think of it as . . . a sleepover party. Those are always fun, right?"

"No." Violet pushed her plate out, no longer hungry. "When's she getting here?"

"Tomorrow night. She's never been this far from Boston on her own either, so be nice," Ben warned.

"No promises." Violet stood up from the table and left the room.

"What are we going to do with her?" Ben asked when their daughter was out of earshot.

Vivian shook her head. "I have no idea . . . You know she asked me the weirdest thing yesterday? She asked about how I knew when I was in love with you at first . . ."

Ben thought of Tate, and suddenly felt sick to his stomach. "_Love?_"

"Yeah . . . I don't think she has a boyfriend though. All though who would know, she hasn't been going to school . . ." Vivian murmured. "She just pretends to be sick in the morning and stays in her room _all day long._"

Ben swallowed. Love?

. . .

"Tate!" Violet yelled when she was safe in the basement.

"What do you want _him_ for?" one of the twins—Bryan—asked.

"Go away!" Violet exclaimed. Bryan and Troy scowled at her before disappearing into the dark shadows.

"Hey, hey, what's going on?" Tate asked as he emerged from the doorway. "What are you yelling about?"

"Ugh, I'm just so pissed off right now!" Violet told him. "My parents are making me babysit my crazy cousin . . ."

"How old is she?" Tate asked.

Violet shrugged. "I dunno . . . around our age I guess."

Tate gave her a questioning look. "And you're . . . _babysitting?"_

"She keeps trying to kill herself," Violet told him. She was pacing back and forth across the floor. "Damn this is bullshit!"

"Hey," Tate grabbed her arms to stop her from walking around. "Maybe this'll be fun."

"What about a mentally unstable person is _fun?"_ Violet asked harshly.

"Well I don't know, you tell me," Tate said. "I used to want to kill people, remember?"

Violet winced but luckily it went unnoticed. "I guess . . . maybe you and her will get along. She claims she can . . . see things."

"Like what?"

"I don't know. Weird stuff. I remember once, when we were little, she started up a conversation with my grandmother's corpse. She was the only on we heard talking, but it was like she really was talking to someone else we couldn't hear. It was weird."

"Why were you near your grandmother's corpse?" Tate asked. Violet realized then how weird that had probably sounded.

"We were at her funeral," she explained. "Or another time, we found her sitting all alone in our attic. We had been looking for her for hours, and when we asked what she was doing, she said she was talking to her friends."

"Hey . . . maybe she was like us," Tate suggested. "Maybe she could see ghosts."

"I don't know . . . I've only ever seen ghosts here," Violet pointed out. "You?"

Tate shrugged, looking confused. "I actually can't remember . . . maybe I have. So when's she getting here?"

"Tomorrow . . . we have to pick her up at the airport." Violet began pacing again.

"What's her name?"

"Lily," Violet replied. Tate chuckled. She stopped pacing in glared at him. "Why are you laughing?"

"Violet and Lily," he said. "They're both flowers."

Violet rolled her eyes. Boys . . .

Tate's hand gripped her back and he pulled her in close. "So . . . what do you want to do later?"

Violet smiled as he began to kiss her neck. "I don't know . . . maybe we should go upstairs."

"What's so great upstairs?" Tate mumbled.

"My bedroom," Violet whispered in reply. It was funny how Tate could make her go from super pissed at her parents to wanting sexual intercourse in less than five minutes.

"That sounds nice," Tate agreed. "But how am I going to get up there without your dad seeing me?"

"Hmm . . . Well, you always seem to find a way, don't you?" Violet asked.

Tate pulled back. "Uh . . . yeah."

"What's wrong?" she asked.

"N-nothing . . ." he replied. "It's . . . Violet, where do I live?"

"What?"

"Where do I live?"

"I don't know," she replied.

"Yes you do," he insisted. "You know . . . Violet, tell me where I live."

He sounded almost . . . upset.

"Tate, I don't know where you live, I've never been to your house," Violet lied.

Tate's breath was shaky. "Why not?"

"You never invited me," Violet replied, trying to stay cool.

"No, no Vi that's not why . . ."

He was getting close to the truth, and for some reason, Violet found herself not wanting that to happen. Maybe because deep down, she knew that the sooner he found out he was dead, the sooner he'd have to move on, and the sooner he moved on, the sooner she'd lose him forever. And she also knew that she really, truly loved Tate, and she didn't want to lose him. He had come so close to the truth the other day, when he had asked about ghosts. She was sure he knew. But . . . he didn't say anything after that, so maybe it was just some weird coincidence.

"Hey, come on," Violet said. "I think we were in the middle of something."

She wrapped her arms around his neck and pressed her lips against his. She let her tongue slid across his mouth. She knew it would distract him, and she would never admit it, but she liked it too.

"I think we were going upstairs," she reminded him. He nodded.

. . .

**Dun, dun, dun! Haha, please leave a review! Are you curious to see who Lily is? Is she really crazy? Will Tate find out he's a ghost? Seriously, please review!**


	2. Spirits

**Disclaimer – I don't own American Horror Story**

**Thanks for the reviews guys! I love feedback . . . Anyway; I hope things weren't too . . . confusing in that last chapter. **

. . .

"Violet!" Ben yelled up the stairs. "Come on we gotta go get Lily!"

His daughter came into view, slumping down the stairs looking extremely pissed. She stopped on the last step. "Why do I have to go?"

"Because, you're mother wants us all there to great her," Ben told her, growing impatient. The last thing he needed was Vivian on his case for leaving being late to pick up her brother's daughter at the airport.

"Even you?" Violet asked. "Even though you and mom aren't even _together_ anymore. Does that make sense to you? Because it sure as hell doesn't make sense to me."

"Vi . . ." Ben sighed. She was glaring at him with such strong hate in her eyes . . . This was his sweet baby girl, and she hated him. What had he done?

Oh, that's right. Totally fucked up his life and his family, that's what.

"Can we _please_ just get through picking up your cousin at the airport? Then I promise you can get back to your teenage angst," Ben said sarcastically.

Violet took the final step down the stairs and got right up in his face. "You don't get it do you? I don't _like_ you, Dad. In fact, I hardly love you anymore. You've got a totally fucked up mind because you think that it's _okay_ to cheat on your wife that just lost her baby. You probably didn't even think of me when you did that, did you? And then again, I caught you with Moira. Now that was just flat out sick Dad, Moira's like sixty years old. You really weren't thinking of me then because you knew that I was home that time. You treat mom and I like shit. Now, I'm not claiming that I love mom or anything, because personally she disgusts me too, but not as much as you do. Now, I'll play the happy little family act with the two of you, but the second you piss me off, I swear to God I will run away and never look back. You _won't_ find me and I _won't_ miss you. Now let's go to the stupid airport and get my stupid cousin before I change my mind."

She walked away after that, leaving Ben alone. He felt hot steaming tears fall down his cheeks. His daughter had just pointed out all his flaws, and to top it off told him she didn't even love him anymore. This was possibly the worst part of this whole messed up experience, he would be losing Violet. And someday, he'd probably lose the unborn twins as well.

There was a loud honk from outside, followed by Vivian screamed, "BEN GET OUT HERE NOW WE'RE GOING TO BE LATE!"

He wiped the tears off his face and recomposed himself. Violet was right, they needed to at least _play_ happy family.

For today anyway.

. . .

_Blonde hair . . . hazel eyes. Sometimes they were greenish, like her mother's. Ew, no. Don't think about it like that. Violet's nothing like her mother. Violet is . . . Violet. There's no one else in the world just like her. That's the best part . . ._

Tate smiled. Thinking about Violet made him miss her, but she'd be home soon. He was waiting in her room. She'd like that. And he would soon meet Lily as well. He wondered if they looked anything alike, or if they had similar personalities. Could Lily really see other things? There was no real way to tell.

Tate sat straight up on Violet's bed when he heard the door creak open. It was too early for her to be back here . . .

Moira entered the room. "What are you doing here, Tate?"

"Waiting for Violet," Tate replied coolly. "And you?"

"My job," Moira snapped. She fully entered the room and began dusting Violet's things. "I swear this girl just _attracts_ dust! I have to come in here three or four times a week. It's insane . . ."

Tate looked down. He became lost in thought, subconsciously wringing his hands.

"Penny for your thoughts," Moira offered, probably trying to be nice. She was always so mean to his family, but ever since she had learned that he hated Constance, she had started warming up to him.

"They're probably worth more than that right now," he admitted. "Quality entertainment . . ."

Moira gave him a slight half-grin. There was silence for a few minutes, which Moira spent dusting Violet's picture frames.

"Moira . . . why does Dr. Harmon see you . . . differently?" Tate finally asked. Moira looked at him. "He does see you differently, doesn't he? He sees you the way you used to be . . . And it's not just him, it's all the other guys that walk through here. Why?"

Moira sighed. "Some questions are hard to answer, Tate. In truth, I'm not one hundred percent sure myself. But I think you know the just of it . . ."

"You're . . . a ghost, aren't you?" he asked. He had known it for a while, but had never had the guts to say it out loud.

"I guess you could call it that," Moira said. "I prefer to think of it as eternal damnation, but . . . that's just me. As for your other question . . . do you have any theories?"

"You told Mrs. Harmon that woman see people's true intentions, or something like that. But men are blinded by what they think they see . . . So, you're true intentions are those of a nice old lady, but sometimes you come across as a slut?"

Moira gave him a rotten look. "Something like that."

"How did you know?" Tate asked quickly, before he could become too afraid to finish his sentence. "That you were dead. That you were a ghost."

Moira was silent for a moment. "Well . . . I guess somehow you just . . . know, Tate. Why do you ask?"

"No reason," he lied. He didn't want to admit to what had happened on Halloween. How he was beginning to think that his visions hadn't really been visions. That he really _had_ killed all those people. That afterwards, he had died too.

The silence that fell was awkward. Neither of them knew what to say.

"Well." Moira grabbed her duster and flattened her apron. "I'd better get to cleaning the rest of the house for Mrs. Harmon's niece."

"How long will Lily be here?" Tate asked.

Moira shrugged. "Through Christmas at least. Her parents want her here until she gets better, but by the way Dr. Harmon and his wife make her sound, that won't be anytime soon."

"What's . . . wrong with her?"

She sighed. "Sounds like she's just crazy. But I'd watch out for her if I were you. Everyone can see me because I let them, the other spirits that live here . . . aren't so kind. If she catches sight of any of them and you notice . . . well, you'd better tell _someone_."

By someone, she meant herself or one of the other spirits, that much Tate knew. But more questions still swam through his mind. Why could everyone see Moira, but not the others? And why could he and Violet see them all? Where was Addie? Why hadn't she been by in so long? Why couldn't he remember so much of his past . . . everything he thought of was drawing up blank. Why was it that the only recent memories he could fully recall were of him being in this house? Except on Halloween . . . he and Violet had left on Halloween . . .

Questions, questions . . . so many. Too many. It hurt his head. Was that what was hurting his head? How long had that pain been there in his brain? It felt like forever . . . More questions! They never ended, he never ran out. Millions of questions but no answers . . . it was maddening.

The girl. The girl he had chopped in half the day Violet had almost been killed. That was one.

The five teenagers at the beach. He was sure they were telling the truth, even if he didn't remember it. That made six.

How many others? How many others had he killed? (More questions). How many lives had he ended? Lives like Violet had . . . would he end her life? What if he had to do it? What if she begged for him to take her away . . .? Would he do it then?

_Think about what you know,_ he told himself._ No more questions, just facts. Okay. You know that you can only leave the house on Halloween, for some reason. You know that you spend all your time here. You know that you love Violet. You know that you've killed at least six people. You know that Violet's cousin Lily is coming for a visit. You know that Moira's a ghost. You know that you hate your mother. But why do you hate her? Is there a reason? Wh—_

_No._ He made himself stop. No questions. _You know that you see a therapist named Dr. Harmon. His daughter, Violet, is your girlfriend. You know that Violet used to cut herself. You know that Violet tried to kill herself. You know that Violet promised you never to hurt herself again. You know that Dr. Harmon's worried about Violet. You know that you're worried about Violet. You know that you're up here to surprise her. You know that she'll probably be happy to see you. You know that if you get caught by Dr. Harmon in his daughter's bedroom, he'll bust a cap up your ass. You know that Violet tried to have sex with you on the beach. You know that you liked that she wanted that. You know that she stopped. You know it was because you were afraid. You know you're a wimp for it. You know that most guys would have done it with her anyway. You know that that doesn't bother you. You know you don't want to take advantage of her. You know that you scared that bitch Leah for her in the basement. You know Infantata helped you. You know that you were the first boy to give Violet a flower. You know you painted that flower black. You know you have blonde hair and brown eyes. You know Violet also had blonde hair, but her eyes are hazel. You know Mrs. Harmon's a redhead. You know Moira's got red hair too. You know that Dr. Harmon had an affair with a girl named Hayden. You know that she ended up being pregnant. You know that she's dead now, because you've seen her ghost roaming around, confused. You know that you're just picking random things about your life that aren't questions. You know that it's helping you either way. You know that you like Nirvana. You know that Violet likes the same music you do. You know that you have scars on your writs. You know that Violet and Lily will be sharing this room. You know that the Harmon's will be home soon. You know that when they're home, you'll be able to talk with Violet. You know that'll make you feel better . . . _

Thinking had made him calm. He felt more . . . relaxed now. More himself.

He heard the door creak downstairs, and a brilliant idea struck him. He had tried to scare Violet before in the basement by putting on that rubber suit thing. It hadn't worked, as least she claimed it hadn't. His ghost story didn't work either. But he _could_ scare her. He knew it.

So, he hopped off the bed and crawled underneath it.

"Girls dinner will be ready at six!" Mrs. Harmon called from downstairs.

"Whatever, Mom!" Violet yelled back. Her door opened and Tate saw two sets of feet enter. One was Violet, he recognized her shoes. The other must be her cousin, Lily.

"So this is my room," Violet was saying. "That one's your bed, this one's mine."

As she was speaking, she was walking over to her bed. Tate waited until she was close enough to reach, then shot his hand out and grabbed her ankle. He pulled hard, and she fell screaming to the floor. He laughed.

"You jerk!" Violet exclaimed when she realized it was him. "You scared the shit out of me!"

She grabbed his arm and pulled him out from under the bed.

"Did I scare you that time?" he asked.

"No," she lied.

"Yes, you did. She screamed, couldn't you tell?" the other girl asked. She had a dark yet somewhat innocent tone of voice

Tate turned to face the girl. She had black dyed hair that fell like a sheet across half of her face. Judging by her eyebrows, her hair was naturally a dirty blondish color like Violet's. Her clothes were black too. She reminded him of the goth girl from the beach. _Stephanie Boggs_.

_How did I know her name?—No, no more questions!_ He thought. He went back to observing Lily. Her skin was pale and her eyes were black. Completely black except for the whites. It was weird; almost like an animal's eye . . . you couldn't see the pupil.

"Hi," he said. "I'm Tate. Violet's boyfriend."

He reached out her hand to her. She was about to except it, but then she paused. "Wait . . ."

"What is it?" he asked, totally confused.

Lily seemed lost in deep thought. "N-never mind. Nice to meet you, Tate. I'm Lily. Watch out, I'm certifiably insane."

He chuckled. "One thing we have in common."

That caught her interest. "_Really?"_

He nodded. "I . . . _used to_ want to kill people."

"Respect," Lily agreed, smiling and nodding. "I'm just your average everyday case of psychotic visions . . . I see death . . . everywhere. Sometimes it's really bad. But . . . I guess that's what Uncle Ben's for."

"Uh yeah, Dr. Harmon's a great therapist," Tate agreed.

"Well, glad to know that you two get along," Violet said with a little hostility. "That makes two."

"Violet I still don't understand what I did wrong!" Lily exclaimed, pleading.

"Never mind," Violet said. "Let's just . . . unpack your shit and get back to living our lives."

Seeing Violet in a bad mood not only upset Tate but it also scared him. So, when she tried to walk away from him—probably to help Lily with her bags—he grabbed her by the waist and flipped her over the rail of her bed along with him, where he proceeded to kiss her, hard.

When they broke apart, she was smiling. Tate loved it when she smiled, so he smiled too.

"Help me with Lily's stuff?" she asked. He nodded.

"Weirdest relationship_ ever_," Lily muttered under her breath, but the two love birds didn't notice. Lily knew there was something about this Tate kid, he wasn't alive, but he wasn't exactly dead either. At least, he didn't feel dead. He didn't _know_ he was dead, it seemed. But how do you not know you're dead?

. . .

**You like? Thanks again for the reviews, please keep it up! And don't be afraid to criticize! Not enough detail? Too jumpy? Lemme know!**


	3. Family Meals

**Disclaimer – I don't own American Horror Story**

. . .

"Hey . . . Mom?" Violet asked. "Is it okay if I have my boyfriend over for dinner?"

She figured now would be a good as time as any to tell her mother, right? And Tate was already here, she didn't feel like asking him to leave. Mostly because he couldn't. So, she left her cousin and her boyfriend upstairs in her room and made the journey down into the kitchen to talk to her mother.

"You have a boyfriend?" Vivian asked in shock. What was happening to her little girl? They used to talk . . . In fact, there was once a time when Violet would actually _trust_ Vivian with her crushes and things. That had been years ago now though . . .

"Yeah, Dad didn't tell you?"

"Dad knows you have a boyfriend?" Vivian's mind was racing. What was happening? It was like her whole family was working against her. Purposely trying to keep information from her. Betrayal, that's what it was. They were working together, differences aside. Trying to get under her skin. For a great purpose? Possibly . . .

_No, Vivian, _she told herself._ It's just the crazy pregnancy hormones talking. Your family's fine._

"Yeah, he's one of Dad's patients," Violet said, absentmindedly playing with one of the flowers Vivian had set out in a vase on the counter top. "He's upstairs now. He wanted to meet Lily, so he snuck into my room as a surprise. I figured since you're making extra food anyway, it'd be nice for you to formally meet him. Being that he saved your life and all."

Violet mentally patted herself on the back for playing the _you-owe-him-your-life_ card. Now her mom _couldn't_ say no.

Vivian examined the ingredients she had laid out in front of her. "Yeah, I guess he can stay. We've got enough food . . ."

"Thanks Mom!" Violet exclaimed, actually smiling for once. Then she did something even rarer, she gave Vivian a hug. Before Vivian had time to react, Violet was flying out of the room again.

Vivian smiled. Violet hadn't hugged her since . . . since before the she was pregnant again back in Boston. That had been over a year ago now.

. . .

Ben closed the door behind him, careful not to make a lot of noise.

"Sneaking out again?" a familiar voice asked.

Ben turned to face his least favorite person, boiling with rage. "Larry, I told you to stay away from here. I'm going to call the cops."

"Are you, Ben?" Larry asked, limping closer to him. "Are you really? I think we both know how that will go over. Besides, I wasn't trespassing, I was invited here."

"_Who_ invited you here?" Ben asked, reaching hysterics. He was _really_ mad. "There's no one here but my wife, my daughter and I!"

"That's what you think," Larry said. "And as for who invited me, it was Constance. She wanted to see me."

He sounded very smug.

"Well, Larry I'm very happy for you," Ben said. "But you need to _get off my property_. I hope everything goes well for you and Constance, and that everyone lives happily ever after. But for now, I have to go."

"Where are you going, Ben?" Larry asked. "Sneaking off to another mistress? Again?"

"_No,_" Ben replied sternly.

"Well where are you sneaking off to then?" Larry followed Ben when he started to walk away. "You were pretty careful with the door there . . . is it a secret?"

Ben's pace sped up. "Well, I _was_ going to pick up some flowers for my wife, but if you plan on following me the entire time, I'll just go back into my house."

"You think flowers will fix what you did?" Larry asked. "She's not just going to forgive you, Ben. She already hates your guts."

"I have to try," Ben admitted. "Now leave."

"Fine," Larry agreed. "But this isn't the last you'll see of me, Ben Harmon, I promise you that much."

Ben shook his head and continued walking to his car. He didn't look back to see where Larry was going, and he didn't really care that much.

. . .

"Hey," Violet said when she reentered the room. "Wanna stay for dinner?"

Tate smiled. "Your dad will let me?"

"I didn't ask my dad, now did I?" Violet replied.

Tate rolled his eyes. "Okay. I'll stay. On one condition."

"Which would be . . . ?" Violet asked stepping closed to him. He liked it when she was close to him.

"You have to tell your dad that you think I'm sexy," Tate said. Lily laughed from her bed, where she was sitting. Violet had totally forgotten she was there. Thank God she remembered before things with her and Tate got . . . physical. She was pretty sure Tate wouldn't care, but the last thing she needed was her cousin to see her doing it with her boyfriend. The kid was messed up enough already.

"Are you serious?" Violet asked. "Of course. It'll be so much fun to see the look on pathetic little face."

"You don't like your father?" Lily asked. She stood up from her bed and walked over to them, probably trying to join in on the conversation. Ben had mentioned something in the car about Lily needed to practice her social skills for her first day at Violet's school . . .

"I hate my father with a fiery burning passion that lives deep inside my soul," Violet replied. "He cheated on my mother and totally knocked up a girl who's only a few years older than me. He doesn't care about anyone but himself. So yeah, you could say that I don't like him."

"I hate my dad too," Lily replied, starting to sound angry. "And my mother. They don't understand me. They want me to be different than I am. They won't accept me."

"Same here," Tate replied. "My dad left me alone with my mother, who's a total slutty bitch by the way."

"My mom doesn't get me, she doesn't get that I'm growing up and I don't need her anymore. And she just . . . doesn't get it," Violet added. "So I guess we all hate our parents."

"Quite the trio," Lily agreed. "So Tate, do you go to our school?"

Tate shook his head. "I got kicked out of that shithole."

"Awesome."

"Guys!" Vivian's voice carried through the halls. "Dinner!"

"Let's go eat," Violet said. "I think she made lasagna or something."

"I already love your mother," Tate remarked as he followed Violet out of the room.

On their way down the stairs, they ran into Maria and Glades. Violet swallowed. Under her breath—so Lily wouldn't hear—she muttered, "Go away!"

And they did. Just like Tate had promised.

The three of them kept walking into the dining room. Violet could have sworn she saw Lily staring at the spot Maria and Glades had been standing out of the corner of her eye, but she could have been seeing things.

Vivian was standing there in front of the table, ready to welcome them. They stopped in the doorway, and an awkward silence fell.

"Mom," Violet said, realizing they didn't know each other. "This is Tate. Tate, this is my mom."

Tate held out his hand. "Very nice to finally meet you, Mrs. Harmon."

Vivian shook it. "And you too. I don't know how I'll ever be able to thank you enough for helping Violet and I when those people broke in . . ."

"Don't mention it," Tate told her. Violet smiled as her boyfriend's ability to smooth talk even the stiffest of adults.

"You had a break in?" Lily asked. She took a few steps into the room, pulling in front of Violet. It was then that Violet noticed her cousin was almost the exact same height as her, maybe a half inch taller.

"Uh, yeah . . ." Vivian said. "About a month ago. Tate helped Violet and I get out. Your parents didn't tell you?"

Lily shook her head. "We don't talk. Ever."

Vivian didn't really know what to say to that, so instead she invited the teenager to sit down. "Ben should be coming any second now, and then we can eat."

"Where is he, anyway?" Violet asked her voice harsh. She liked to show her hate for her father in every possible way, which included using a mean tone when speaking of him.

"I don't know," Vivian admitted. "I think I heard him step out a little while ago."

They heard the front door swinging open. "And that would be him."

"Sorry I'm late," Ben said as her jogged into the room, holding a bundle of flowers. He handed them to Vivian. "These are for you."

She smiled in spite of herself. "Wow, Ben . . . thanks."

When she wasn't looking, Tate gave Dr. Harmon the thumbs up and mouthed, _nice._ That was when realized his psychotic patient was present. "Tate?"

"Hey, Dr. Harmon," Tate said. "Good to see you."

"What are you doing here?" Ben asked, taking his seat at the table. She shot a quick look at Violet that read _you are going to be in so much trouble if he says what I think he's going to say._ And what he was thinking Tate was going to say is something that disturbed Ben so deeply he couldn't even finish the whole thought.

"Mrs. Harmon said I could have dinner here," Tate replied, shrugging.

"Yeah," Violet put in, trying to help him out. "Mom wanted to meet my boyfriend."

Ben cringed at the word _boyfriend_.

"Come on," Vivian said. "Let's eat!"

. . .

"So Tate," Vivian said about half-way through the dinner, trying to make small talk. "Do I know your mother?"

Violet answered for him, "Yeah mom, Tate's mother is Constance."

"What?" Vivian asked, looking at Ben. "You never told me that."

"I didn't know either," Ben said honestly. "You live next door, Tate?"

"What?" Tate looked really confused.

Violet became desperate. She began shoveling lasagna into her mouth. "This is _so_ good mom! You'll have to show Lily and I how you make this."

"She will?" Lily asked, staring at her half-eaten piece.

"Yeah," Violet said. "It'll be something fun to do. I guess . . ."

Tate's hand drifted to her leg casually. Ben didn't notice. Violet knew what the action meant, _do it now._

"So . . . Dad," Violet said. "Don't you think Tate's sexy?"

Ben spit out the Coke he had just taken a sip of all over the table. Tate surprised a laugh, and Lily snorted.

"Oh, Ben!" Vivian exclaimed, standing up to get paper towels.

Violet smiled. This was the best family diner ever.

. . .

After Ben's mess had been cleaned and everyone had finished their diner, Tate pretended to leave by walking out the door, and Violet and Lily went back upstairs. Violet opened the window and let Tate climb in.

"That was the best," he said.

"It really was," Lily agreed. "I can't believe you actually said that, Vi."

Violet shrugged. "I loved his face when he spit the water out. He was like, surprised I even knew that word."

"You know what would really piss him off?" Lily asked. "If you got pregnant."

"Don't give her any ideas," Tate hissed, smiling. Violet hit him.

"Oh shut up," Violet said. "I've heard some of the stuff you say to my dad about me in your sessions."

"Fine," Tate agreed. He turned to Lily. "Don't give _me_ any ideas_._"

Violet rolled her eyes. She liked it when Tate was like this, when he joked around and smiled and laughed. It was better than that confused look he got when he was close to figuring out he was a ghost, or that weird way he had gotten when Violet tried to do him at the beach. But at the same time, he was 100% more annoying like this. She decided that the way he acted that she liked best was when they were kissing. He was happy, and he also wasn't talking. Not that she didn't like it when he talked. She loved it when he talked. His voice made her happy. Just seeing him made her happy. Was this what being in love felt like?

She laced her arms around his neck. "Do you realize how annoying you are sometimes?"

"I try," he replied. They began kissing. Violet liked kissing Tate. She liked the way his lips felt. She liked the way she could feel where every scar near his mouth was. What were those from, she wondered. Add that of the list of things to tell her.

"So . . ." Lily said, sounding awkward. "Did . . . either of you see those girls at the bottom of the stairs earlier?"

Tate and Violet broke apart and looked at each other, then to Lily. "What?"

"I saw . . . two girls at the bottom of the stairs," she said, sounding unsure of herself. "One of them was kind of heavy set, and she was all wet. The other had stab marks all over her torso, and looked like she had been crying."

"_You saw_ Maria and Glades?" Tate asked her. He stepped closer to her, as if that might help. This was too much. Lily could see them too? Violet stepped up behind him and put her hand on his shoulder.

Lily nodded. "So I wasn't hallucinating?"

"No," Violet said, sighing from the irony. "I guess it turns out you really can see ghosts, Lily."

. . .

**Man, this must have been a sucky chapter, huh? Sorry . . . it's just that I'm really bad with the adding characters in thing . . . At least I think I am, anyway. Am I? Again, with the review thing, constructive criticism is appreciated. Oh, and just a little side note, that "hate him with a fiery burning that lives passion deep inside my soul" thing is like my catch phrase. It originated from my friend saying that she hated our science teacher with a "fiery passion" so . . . yeah ha-ha felt like sharing. I say that whenever I dislike something/one. **


	4. High School is a Prison

**Disclaimer – I don't own American Horror Story**

. . .

Wait, so Lily _wasn't_ crazy? She wasn't the only one who saw all those things everywhere? Or was it only here?

Whatever, none of that mattered now. Lily wasn't the only one who had seen those two girls at the bottom of the stairs before. Tate and Violet had seen as well. Now, Tate had probably only seen them because he was a ghost himself, but Violet was very much alive as far as Lily could tell . . .

And Ben and Vivian could see Tate. Lily knew that, too. But why could they see him but not the others? There have been many deaths in this house, she could feel it. Tate was just on in the numbers.

"I don't believe it," Violet said. "So all those times we thought you were crazy, you really were talking to ghosts?"

Lily looked down at her shoes, embarrassed. "Well, most of the time. Sometimes I was just messing around because I knew it creeped everyone out . . ."

"How long have you been able to . . . do that?" Tate asked her. There was something about his tone and the look on his face that led Lily to believe he was on the verge of breakthrough about himself being dead. Every time someone had said the word _ghost_ since she'd been here, he had winced ever so slightly. And he seemed confused when Ben and Vivian had asked him about living next door . . .

"Long as I can remember," Lily admitted. "At first, I thought everyone could see them. I always wondered why I was the only one to stop and say hello . . . Then, when I was about six or seven, I realized that they couldn't. I was alone."

"That was suicide attempt number one," Violet said, recalling the entire thing. "Yeah I remember now . . . You ran out into traffic on purpose."

Lily nodded. "It didn't go well . . . Then, five years ago, I tried again. This time I slit my wrists, but my parents got to me in time."

"And most recently?" Violet asked, afraid for the answer.

"I tried to hang myself," Lily told her. "In my bedroom closet. My parents always got worried though, when I was spending a lot of time in my room. So, they checked on me, and found me about to do it. I had the rope around my neck and everything . . ."

"Why'd you do it?" Tate asked, sounding genuinely curious. That scared Violet, Tate's odd obsession with death. Maybe it was a subconscious thing.

"I thought I was crazy," Lily told him. "They wouldn't go away. The voices. They were everywhere, and I saw them too. The ghosts that were stuck here . . . It was Halloween last time I tried to do it, that's always the worst. Everyone can see them on Halloween, but I'm the only one who understands who they really are!"

"What else do you see?" Violet sat down on her bed and Tate joined her. They were ready for a long explanation.

"I can see how they died, if I'm in the spot they were in," Lily said. She had never told anyone this, even though it was the part that bothered her the most.

"You can . . . _see_ their death?" Violet asked.

Lily nodded. "And let me tell you, _many_ people have died here. All over the place . . . I can feel it."

"Do all ghosts know they're dead?" Tate asked.

Violet's eyes opened wide. No, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no . . . He knew. He figured it out. No, no, no, no, no . . .

"As far as I can tell they all do." Lily told the lie without as much as a blink. She was good at lying, she had lots of practice.

Violet sent a thankful look towards her cousin, hoping Tate wouldn't notice.

"Oh," he said, sounding almost . . . disappointed. Did he _want_ to be dead?

"Well . . ." Lily grabbed her suit case off her bed. "I'm going to put on some pajamas, grab my laptop, and blog for a few hours. Just . . . pretend I'm not here."

She left the room, only to return a few moments later. "Where's the bathroom?"

"Second door on the right," Violet told her. Lily nodded, then left again.

"Who'd have thought," Tate said when she was gone. "You're cousin's not crazy."

"Why would you think that ghosts wouldn't know they're dead?" Violet asked him, trying to keep the panic from her voice.

He fidgeted around on her bed for a moment until he was in a more comfortable position. "Just curious I guess. I mean, it'd be pretty awful to be just . . . stuck and not know why. Don't you think?"

Violet didn't answer.

. . .

"I haven't been to school in a while," Lily admitted as she and Violet got ready the next morning. "I kept pretending to be sick."

"Same here," Violet agreed. "I haven't been since Halloween. Almost a month now . . ."

"So . . . Vi," Lily said as she took out her black lipstick and began applying it. "About Tate . . ."

"I know what you're going to say," Violet told her. "I know he's a . . . you know."

"How long ago was it?" Lily asked.

"He died in '94," Violet replied.

Lily paused. She set down her makeup on the table and looked her cousin straight in the eye. _Think about what you're going to say, Lily._ Violet had finally been warming up to her, what she wanted to say could possibly ruin that. She didn't want to scare Violet, or make Tate sound bad but . . . she couldn't help herself. She needed to know. "Tate's last name isn't Langdon . . . is it?"

"Yeah, how'd you know that?" Violet asked, running a brush through her hair.

"Westfield High Massacre . . ." Lily muttered. "I'm kind of a fan of that story."

"Why does the entire world know this story already?" Violet cried out in exasperation. "I mean, it'd be nice to know in advance that there was a freaking _school shooting_ before I started on my first day!"

"What about a school shooting?" Vivian asked from the doorway.

"Mom! How long have you been standing there?"

"Just a few seconds," Vivian replied. "I just wanted to know what was taking you guys so long. Now what about a school shooting?"

She was giving her daughter one of those _no nonsense_ looks. Violet was totally screwed. She knew her mother well. If she told her the truth, Vivian would be sure to do some internet research about it, and then she'd know Tate's secret. If Violet lied . . . well, what could she possibly say as a lie?

Lily knew. "Oh yeah, Auntie Viv, didn't you hear about that? A few weeks ago there was an attempted school shooting in Orlando. But the kid got caught with the guns before he even walked into the building."

Violet was surprised at how well her cousin could spin out lies. Violet was a pretty good liar too, but only because she'd had lots of practice on her parents. Where had Lily learned? Lying wasn't exactly a skill you were born with . . .

"Oh," Vivian said. "Well . . . the bus will be here in ten minutes, hurry up if you want breakfast."

Vivian disappeared down the hall way, and Violet and Lily each sighed in relief.

"So . . . Tate was the one who shot all those kids?" Lily asked, knowing Vivian was well out of ear-shot. Violet nodded. "And Tate doesn't know he's dead?"

Violet shook her head. "And I'm kind of trying to keep it that way."

"But why?" Lily asked. "He's so confused, Violet. He thinks he's dead but at the same time he thinks he's crazy for thinking that. You have to tell him."

Violet sighed. "I . . . I can't. Okay? There, I said it. I can't tell my boyfriend he's a ghost. If I tell him, he'll cross over and then I'll never get to see him again. Okay, I'm selfish."

"No," Lily told her. "That makes sense. But Tate won't cross over as long as you're here, Violet. He really loves you."

"How can you tell?"

"I can read ghosts emotions pretty well, people too." Lily added, "but ghosts are easier for me."

"This is such shit!" Violet exclaimed. "How the hell do you tell someone they're dead?"

Lily stood up from the chair she had been sitting in in front of the mirror. "I'll do it for you, if you'd like."

"How?" Violet was getting scared. Tate was going to know he was dead. Lily said he wouldn't cross over, but she could be wrong. Violet knew that if she didn't tell Tate soon, someone would. Whether it be Lily or Constance or one of the other ghosts in the house. Maybe even her father. If Tate was worried, wouldn't it be logical for him to talk to his physiatrist about it? Ben could very easily look into what Tate was saying, and figure it out. Then he'd tell him. She couldn't keep this a secret any longer.

"Well . . . I would show him," Lily said. "I can do that, too. I could show him either a vision of him being shot down by the SWAT team or him killing those other kids. Then he'd remember, and we wouldn't even really have to tell him. He'd figure it out."

"That's cruel," Violet said. "Making him watch himself kill people? Tate doesn't want to be crazy; he keeps saying he wants to be good."

"He won't be watching himself; he'll be in his own body. Like if I was to show you a vision of you when you overdosed, you'd see whatever you were seeing when it happened until you died."

"How'd you know about that, and what do you mean?" Violet asked.

"You were dead, Vi for like, twenty seconds. I saw it when I was in the bathroom yesterday. Tate saved you," Lily told her.

"I know," Violet replied. "But I was unconscious pretty much the entire time, so I just wouldn't see anything?"

Lily shrugged. "Like I said, you were gone for a while. I don't know what about what Tate did brought you back, but . . . it sure as hell worked. Kind of like CPR maybe . . . Either way, I don't know what you're so worried about. It wouldn't work out between you and Tate anyway, unless you actually die."

Violet was silent. Would Tate have saved her life if he knew he was dead? Would he have let her die, so they could always be together? Did she really want that? She and Tate had only been dating for like, month and a half. Sure, they loved each other, but was she ready to _die_ just to be with him? That was bigger than marriage. With marriage, you can get divorced. You can't come back to life . . .

Although, there are probably tons of dead teenage guys out there in case things didn't end up working out for her and Tate. Being dead as a ghost was a lot like being alive really . . .

"Would you help me?" Violet asked her cousin. "If I decided I wanted to . . . would you help me kill myself?"

Lily was quiet for a few moments before she nodded. "Just know this; people say life isn't fair, don't expect death to be any different."

. . .

Constance entered the house without even knocking. She had no reason to do so; no one was home.

But she needed to see Tate. She needed to see if Violet had told him the truth or if he had figured it out. She needed to know. And, she had also brought Vivian more organs to eat.

The truth behind the organs was that Constance knew what was happening. If she and Moira were correct, that baby would be the key to lifting this stupid curse on the house. It would be the key to Constance's children finally being free.

"What are you doing here?"

Constance nearly dropped the Tupperware container she was holding. She turned to face her son. "Hello, Tate."

"What are you doing here?" Tate repeated. He was scowling, and his voice was cruel and harsh. He really, truly _hated_ his mother.

"I just thought to bring these by for Mrs. Harmon," Constance explained, setting the container down on the counter. "Moira will be sure to take care of it, though. I'm sure . . ."

"What do you want?" Tate asked.

"Hmm . . . a better question would be, what do _you_ want, Tate?" Constance asked.

"Really? I'd love it if you would_ leave._"

"Why don't you leave?" Constance asked him. "Your little girlfriend's not here, and as far as I know, you didn't have an appointment scheduled with Dr. Harmon for today . . ."

Tate's angry expression flattened. "I . . ."

Constance bit her lip. _No, you're not the person to tell him._

"Well, fine. I suppose you're right, I shouldn't be here," she said. "I'll just be going."

"Wait." Tate put his arm across the door that led from the kitchen to outside, blocking Constance from leaving. "I haven't seen Addie in a while. Is she okay?"

Constance swallowed. "She's . . . she's fine. Just fine . . ."

Tate nodded, then allowed his mother to leave, making sure to bolt the door behind her.

. . .

School sucked. Violet had to deal with the usual harassment, plus shithead teachers. Lily was getting picked on more so than usual, because not only was she a new kid, but she was also "emo" and an easy target. They had both already been in two or more fights (some against the same people at the same time) and it wasn't even dismissal yet.

"We'll tell him when we get home," Lily said to Violet as they sat down for lunch. "And I was thinking . . . I know a lot about ghosts, right?"

"Sure seems that way," Violet agreed, mushing her potatoes into her lunch tray. She really wasn't hungry after all this talk of telling Tate he was a ghost.

"Well, one of the things I know a lot about is haunting. And . . . Tate can't leave the house because that's where his soul haunts. But, a soul can haunt anything that was significant in that person's life. Meaning, there might be a way around Tate being stuck in the house all the time. Anything that grips him to his life . . . it could be as little as a favorite tee-shirt . . . he can haunt it."

"I don't think I follow."

"Well . . . Maria, for example. In her life, she was super religious, and her spirit could still go the church she was a member of if she wanted. She could go there because—"

"It's significant," Violet finished. "So you're saying if Tate wanted to leave the house and it _wasn't_ Halloween . . ."

"He could," Lily told her. "As long as the place you're going is significant."

"Why is this relevant right now?" Violet asked her cousin, knowing she was going to get an unexpected answer.

"You and Tate could go on dates and stuff," Lily said. Violet knew there was something else, something Lily was leaving out about this master plan.

"_And?"_

"And . . . well, I'll tell you the rest later, once I'm sure it'll work . . ." Lily muttered.

The two girls finished their lunch period in silence, both lost in their own thoughts. Violet was thinking about Tate, and how he'd react to finding out he was dead. Would he be mad at her for not telling him sooner? Would he hate himself for doing all the things he did? Would he remember, and want to go back to the way he had been? Constance's voice rang though her head over and over; _He doesn't . . . react well to certain things._

Lily was thinking about her plan. She wasn't sure if Tate or Violet would like it very much, but she knew she had to tell them about it either way. It wasn't a pleasant idea, but it would help Tate, at least she thought it would.

. . .

Violet was about to start hyperventilating. The bus ride home was almost over. Tate would be waiting up in her room like he always was. Lily was going to tell him . . .

"Vi, calm down," Lily hissed under her breath. Violet looked up and realized people were beginning to stare. Not just at her, but at Lily as well. Clearly, they had all been too tired this morning to realize that there was a new kid on the bus. Violet heard some carried whispers from the gossiping teens.

"Who's the new chick?"

"What's the weird Harmon girl up to?"

"She looks like she's going to pass out . . ."

"That new girl looks like the devil."

"We're all going to die."

"Hey!" someone said. Lily turned. A spit ball hit her in the face.

"Alright, now Lily gets physical," she murmured, sounding unbelievably pissed. She stood up and glared at the kid. "Alright you little bastard. You wanna go?"

"Lily, sit down," Violet said. The last thing they needed was to get kicked off the bus. Violet didn't need Vivian on her case.

"No," Lily replied. "This kid wants a piece of me, he's gonna get it."

"Yo, I'm not fighting a girl," the bully said, sounding scared. Violet was worried, but Lily knew what she was doing, she had lots of experience with bullies. "Besides, what are you going to do? Murder me with your eyeliner?"

"Hmm . . ." Lily said. "I guess you're right."

She sat down. It was a total bluff, but she liked messing with people.

The bully looked proud of himself, but then Lily started to talk again. "I mean, I wouldn't want to . . . upset the spirits."

"What are you talking about, bitch?" Mr. Bully asked.

Lily laughed. "Oh come on, don't tell me you've never heard of the Bus Ghosts."

The bus fell silent. All eyes were trained on Lily.

"Bus Ghost?" the kid asked skeptically.

"Yeah," Lily replied. "You've never heard the stories?"

"No, because it's not real."

"Of course it is! Way back in like, the 80s there was this kid who got bullied on the bus every day. Really bad too. The bullies would take him by his underwear, open the emergency exit, and hold him out the back. The bus driver wouldn't even do anything. Then one day, the bullies accidentally dropped him, and he was killed." Everything she was saying was total bullshit, but everyone was paying attention, which was good. "So the kid's spirit was all pissed, right? He didn't like bullies. From that point on, he cursed every school bus in existence. Whenever a kid gets beat up on the bus, his spirit comes back to _kill them_."

There was silence for a few moments before the bully replied, "What a load. You're such a crazy whore."

"Don't make me call his spirit back from the dead," Lily threatened. Violet smirked. This was better than TV. Her cousin was turning out to be seriously cool.

"Yeah, okay."

"Alright, fine. But remember, you made me." Lily took a deep breath, and then spoke in such a creepy voice; it actually sent chills up Violet's spine. "Oh spirits from beyond, I call you back to Earth on this a cursed day to haunt this _bully_. I give you permission to do with him what you will, if that be rape, murder, or other illegal acts. When you are done with his body, I ask thee rip away his soul and cut it into a million pieces, so that he may never, _ever_ torment children again."

No one said a word. Lily, with her gothic appearance, death glare, and scary voice, has seriously scared the shit out of everyone.

The bus pulled up to the Murder House, and Lily and Violet got off. The driver was smiling. Violet was pretty sure the bus driver purposely pulled up outside the house, just to add to the effect of Lily's story. The usual drop off spot—which was the end of the next street over—didn't make it as creepy as the Murder House did.

As the bus drove away, Violet and Lily could make out the terrified faces of the naïve kids, and began to laugh so hard that tears filled their eyes.

"School was fun?"

They stopped laughing and turned around to see Tate waiting for them on the front lawn.

Lily looked at Violet, then to Tate. "Come on, Dude. Let's go to our room. We need to talk . . ."


	5. Monsters in Me

**Disclaimer – I don't own American Horror Story**

. . .

"What's wrong?" Tate asked when they were safe inside the room Violet and Lily were sharing.

Lily shut the door behind them, and then locked it for good measure. "Tate, do you remember this room?"

Tate gave her one of those _what the hell are you talking about_ looks and nodded. "Yes. This is Violet's room."

"No, I mean . . . do you remember this room from before it was Violet's?" Lily asked. "Do you remember what it looked like? Who it belonged to?"

Tate got that confused look on his face again. The face that made Violet worried. "What do you . . .?"

"What about high school, Tate," Lily continued. "Do you remember your last day at Westfield?"

"I got kicked out . . ." he mumbled. He shifted his weight back and forth on his legs. Fidgety meant nervous . . . caught in the act nervous.

_Why's he nervous?_ Violet asked herself. _He can't already know. He just can't. I've been too careful._

"Tate, have you ever heard of the Westfield High Massacre?" Lily asked carefully.

Tate looked back and forth between the two girls. He cleared his throat, but when he spoke his voice still cracked a little. "What do you mean?"

Violet could tell by his face that he was scared. Lily was moving too fast with the questions. An idea struck her. "Tate, is Kurt Cobain alive or dead?"

"Dead," Tate replied automatically. "He committed suicide."

"April 5th, 1994." In response to Violet's glare, Lily added, "What? I'm good with death dates . . ."

"Okay let's try a different approach . . ." Violet suggested.

"Oh fuck it," Lily said, sounding frustrated. "Tate, watch."

She grabbed his and Violet's hands, and the bedroom disappeared, replaced by the school library at Westfield.

"What's going on?" Violet asked, panicking.

"We're in the memory of these students deaths," Lily explained.

"Well . . . what's going on with Tate?" Violet asked. Tate's hand was still interlocked with Lily's, but he appeared to be asleep. His eyes were closed and his breathing was slowed.

"He's in his own body from the memory," Lily told her. "He's seeing things from his own eyes. If we had been there, it would have been the same way. But since we weren't, no one here can see us. Tate's body's just here to keep him anchored to it. If I were to let go of his hand, we'd all be taken back to the house. We're in Tate's brain . . ."

"How?"

"I can take any death from anyone's memory and show it to them again," Lily said. "It's kind of part of the weird thing. Any death that someone near me has seen, I see too."

Violet swallowed the lump in her throat and nodded. She was about to watch her boyfriend horribly murder five innocent teenagers. Lily read her face. "Vi, if you don't want to see . . . just let go."

Violet thought for a moment. How would she feel about Tate if she watched him do something so horrible? She had already decided that she didn't care about it now. Who he was and who he is are two different people. But, if she had to actually watch it happen right in front of her . . . Would she still be able to look at him the same way?

"I'll be okay," she decided. Curiosity would eat away at her mind if she didn't see. She loved Tate, that's all that mattered.

She counted in her head. _One, two, three, four, five, six, seven, eight, nine—_

Gun shots. Screams. Footsteps.

The boy Violet recognized as Kevin Gedman from the articles about the massacre ran into the library. His hands were covered in blood. He began to barricade the door, explaining to the other members of the Dead Breakfast Club and the librarian what was going on. The details were vague, but Violet knew the just of it. Tate was out there killing innocent people. Ten were probably already dead, five more to go. _These five_.

"Who's doing this?"

"I—I don't know!" Kevin seemed sincere. So it was true, Tate was just shooting and killing random people for no reason at all.

"We have to get out of here!"

More gunshots. The teenagers and the librarian ran for cover. Lily noticed something they didn't, which might have saved their lives.

"The back door, dumbasses," her cousin murmured. Violet looked. Sure enough, the library had a back entrance.

Tate was trying to open the library doors from the outside, but thanks to Kevin they wouldn't budge. That probably made Tate angry. Not being able to get the doors open. Violet knew stupid things like that really got under Tate's skin. So—as predicted—instead of Tate just turning around and killing other defenseless victims, he walked around to the back of the library. Towards the other door.

"Why is he doing this?" Violet asked.

"He can't help it," Lily replied. "It's not him . . . it's the madness."

The librarian, realizing what was happening, jumped up from his safe-haven behind the desk and ran up against the door. _Pew, pew, pew!_ Three shots later he was down, and the door was swinging open.

Tate stepped inside. Violet realized that this was the first time she had ever seen her boyfriend as a living human and it kind of creeped her out.

Tate stepped right over the body. The librarian was still breathing, and he knew it. But his task wasn't to kill adults; it was to kill the students. The adults were insignificant.

There _were_ students in here. He had heard their voices from outside the library. They were hiding now, afraid for their lives. As they should be.

He walked around a little, trying to catch sight of them. First, he checked in the rows of book shelves. He whistled to himself as he searched, wanting to show his victims that he was totally calm. That he didn't feel a thing. When he came to the third or fourth row, he heard a noise. It sounded almost like breathing, but heavy and quick. The way you breathe when you're afraid. He knocked down a few books from the opposite end. A scream pierced his ears.

He ran around and faced the girl before she could run away. He looked her right in the eyes and whispered so softly that no one else would hear, "Do you believe in God?"

The girl nodded, tears pouring down her cheeks. He pulled the trigger, and she dropped dead. Her brains were spilling out of her head, but Tate didn't have time to admire his handy work. There were other victims to be found.

He drew a shaky breath. He just _killed_ someone. This isn't what he wanted . . . but he had to.

He kept walking, over to where there were a few couches and chairs. A person could easily hide behind them. He was right; lying on his back behind a chair was a nameless boy he had seen around the school only a few times before.

"No, no please no!" the boy begged. Tate's fingers didn't hesitate. Kevin Gedman was dead in seconds.

"Get the phone!" a male's voice hissed. Phone?

Tate walked around the other side of the librarian's desk. Crouching there, holding the corded phone in one hand, mouth gapping, was another target. _Pew!_

The boy twitched a few times before he was still, blood pouring out of his mouth. Tate's was reminded of his mother. Whenever he was open-mouthed, she would tell him_ you'll catch flies._

Her vial voice rang through his head. That's why he was here. Her. Well, she was one of the reasons anyway. She had moved them into that _awful_ house just so she could continue being a cocksucker. The house remembered Tate, it spoke to him. He tried not to listen, but sometimes it was hard . . . so hard.

One brave soul decided to take a noble stand. After telling whoever he was hiding with that it was going to be okay, he came out from his hiding spot under a table. Tate turned around anyway, ready to walk away. He didn't want to kill anyone else. Heck, he hadn't wanted to kill anyone at all.

"Hey!" the jock called. Tate turned this time. "That's enough, get out of here."

_You get out_, Tate thought. He pulled the trigger.

Then he heard it. One final girl, under the table. She was sobbing. Had she loved the boy he just killed?

_Do it,_ the monster inside him said. _Kill her. _

_No,_ Tate pled. _Please no._

_Do it now!_ It demanded. It took over him. Tate tried to fight it as best he could, but it was impossible. The monster was stronger. It took control of his arms, and flipped over the table. The girl was begging for her life. Tate wanted to tell her he was sorry. That he hadn't meant for any of them to die. He didn't want for it to happen. He wanted to be good. But the monster wouldn't let him. So instead of speaking, Tate did the one thing he could do, he put as much of a sorry look on his face as he could. He hopped the girl would forgive him, but he doubted it.

"He looks scared," Violet remarked to her cousin.

Lily nodded grimly. Her voice was sad when she spoke. "You'll understand. Come on; let's skip ahead a little bit."

The library disappeared, and they were once again standing in Violet's bedroom. Only . . . something was wrong. It wasn't her bedroom, the walls were a different color, and these weren't her things. The room was the same, but the inside . . . wasn't.

Violet looked over and saw Tate, still gripping Lily's hand, still asleep. Then she saw another Tate—living Tate—sitting on the bed.

Her room had once been Tate's? Lily hadn't mentioned that . . .

Living Tate appeared to be . . . upset.

_Why did you make me kill them?_ He asked the monster. It didn't answer. He slowly shook his head. What had he done? He deserved to die . . . His mother deserved to go through what the other fifteen mothers were going through right now.

"Tate!" he heard the demon woman's voice scream from the hall. She sounded scared. She was screaming about how he's "just a child" and will "go peacefully."

So the authorities had found him at last . . .

"Just let me talk to him!" Constance screamed.

The S.W.A.T. team came in then. Tate made up his mind, this time without the monster doing it for him. Slowly, he rose to his feet. His head was clear for the first time in a while, and he knew that the monster was gone. It wouldn't bother him anymore now. It didn't need him anymore.

Red lights targeted on his chest, Tate raised his hands in surrender. Then, very carefully, he morphed his right hand into the shape of a gun, and demonstrated pulling the trigger. Maybe they'd understand the message, but just to make sure . . . He reached for his gun.

It was quick. Seventeen bullets punctured his chest, and he fell to the ground.

"TATE!" Violet screamed. "Lily what the hell is going on?"

"That's not him Violet!" Lily tried to tell her cousin, but Violet was in melt-down mode. As anyone would be watching their boyfriend be shot down by the S.W.A.T. team.

"Why did you do it?" the head guy asked.

"Yeah because he can answer you now you bastard!" Violet exclaimed. Tears were beginning to roll down her cheeks. She knew it was stupid, and that Tate totally deserved it, but she loved him, and it was still hard.

Tate tried to choke out the answer. That he hadn't wanted to and that he was sorry. But his breaths ran out before he got the chance.

. . .

_Now_ they were back in Violet's bedroom. Back in 2011. Back where Tate was a ghost.

As soon as Violet realized the memories were over, she ran right into his arms. He remained still as a stone as she hugged him. "That was so scary . . . are you okay?"

"I'm sorry," Lily whispered. "I didn't know what else to do."

Tate was silent. So was Violet.

"Please," Lily begged. "One of you say something."

Violet released Tate and turned to look at her cousin, making sure Tate's hand was still in hers—just in case. "Lily . . . I still don't understand."

"What's not to understand?" Tate asked, speaking for the first time. "I'm . . . dead. And I have been for years. I'm a . . . I'm a ghost."

He didn't sound sad. Or angry. Or upset. He just sounded . . . hallow.

"Why did you do it?" Violet asked him. She probably shouldn't have, it was pretty insensitive of her. He was clearly contrite either way. But she needed to know . . .

"It's this Goddamned house . . ." Tate replied. "It's cursed. I remember now, I had figured it out . . ."

"Tate . . . what happened to you when you were alive? In this house?" Lily asked. She was pretty sure she already knew the answer.

Tate sat down on his girlfriend's bed, and Violet sat next to him. Lily sat on her own bed facing the two.

"When I was born, we didn't live here. We lived close by though. My mother had always admired this house, so as a gift to her, my dad bought it and fixed it all up. We moved in, and everything was going great.

"But then the house started to talk to me . . . it told me to do bad things, and for some reason, I did. It was like I couldn't help myself. I befriended one of the monsters; he was nice enough most of the time. My mother never found out.

"Eventually, we hired a maid; Moira. She was young and beautiful . . . my dad saw that. He cheated on my mother. I think it was the house that made him do it. He could hear it talking too, I could tell. But my mom . . . she was mad. She killed them both, Moira and my father—"

"Moira's dead too?" Violet asked.

"Shh," Lily commanded. "Let him finish."

"Sorry . . ." Violet apologized.

Tate shook his head, and then continued with his story. "After that we had to move out. The house next door had gone up for sale, so we moved in there. My mother remarried almost instantly. I didn't remember my real dad very well, because my mother had killed him when I was really young. I didn't even know my step father wasn't my real dad until I was a teenager . . . Anyway, after we moved out, a new couple moved in. They had two little daughter and they seemed really happy. But then my slut mother had to go and get the guy totally infatuated with her. He told his wife to leave with the kids, because he wanted my mother to move in with my siblings and I. She committed murder suicide, killing her children as well by setting the house on fire. My step father found out what was going on and left; I was ten. Before I had turned eleven, we were back in this house . . . It started talking to me again. I tried to ignore it but I couldn't. It made me do things just like it had before . . . but this time it was worse. It made me . . . kill people."

"You felt bad afterwards," Lily said. "That's why you lifted your gun, isn't it? You wanted them to shoot you."

Tate nodded. "I think the reason I didn't remember was because . . . when the monster took over me, it was like I couldn't even think for myself. I blacked things out of my memory a lot . . ."

"That settles it then," Lily said, standing up. "Don't you guys get it?"

Her voice was harsh and demanding.

". . . No," Violet admitted. "What should we be getting?"

"The house is cursed!" Lily exclaimed. "If you die here, you're stuck here. It's Charles and Nora . . . they owned the house first, right? And then that whole thing with their kid . . . I'd read the stories online before but I didn't actually believe them. Now I get it . . . Infantata—what was left of their baby—is the reason for all of this. Charles went crazy in this house, so now all men who live here are going to go crazy as well. Nora lost her baby, it became a demon. Woman can't have normal children born in this house. That's the curse. And the spirits that live here_ can't _move on, probably because Thaddeus couldn't move on. He died but his father brought him back . . ."

"That was that thing!" Violet exclaimed to Tate. "That thing you set on Leah!"

Tate nodded grimly. "Yeah . . . Infantata and I go way back."

"He's the monster you were talking about?" Lily asked. "You can communicate with him?"

Tate shrugged and stood up as well. "I dunno . . . he comes when I call him, but only if I'm in the basement."

"This . . . this was his room," Lily said. "That might be another part of the curse . . ."

"Wait, wait, wait," Violet said, pausing them. She joined her companions on her feet. "So you're trying to tell me, that there's curse on this house that makes men go crazy and woman have birth-defected babies, and there's something wrong with this room that _I sleep in every night_. And that the house is crawling with ghosts that can't pass on because they died on the property?"

Lily nodded.

"Don't forget the demon baby in the basement," Tate added.

Violet threw her hands in the air. "This is nuts . . ."

"There must be a way to lift the curse, though," Lily said. "Then all the spirits could move on."

Violet's eyes shot to Tate.

"If . . . if they wanted to that is," Lily added.

Tate swallowed. "I think my mother knows how to lift the curse. I don't know how she figured it out . . . but I'm almost positive she knows. Addie probably does too."

"Addie . . . why does that sound familiar?" Lily asked herself. She thought for a moment, and then snapped her fingers. "Addie's the name of that girl from the news . . . who got hit while trick or treating. It was the last news cast I watched back in Boston. Her mother like, wouldn't talk to the cameras. It happened right here in LA."

Violet sucked in a breath. _Oh no. Oh no, no, no. Two secrets Tate wasn't supposed to know, and he had found them both out in the last hour._

Tate closed his eyes for a few moments, and when he opened the he looked at Violet. "What?"

She shook her head, tears starting to fall again. "I'm so sorry . . . Constance said I couldn't tell you!"

"Did I miss something?" Lily asked. Her comment when unnoticed.

"Addie's . . . dead?" Tate asked.

Violet nodded. "She wouldn't let me tell you, Tate I'm sorry! She said you wouldn't react well and made me promise!"

"Yep . . . I missed something," Lily decided.

Tate wanted to throw something. He wanted to kill someone (not literally this time). He wanted someone to pay for killing his defenseless sister. Anger boiling inside of him. _She said you wouldn't react well._

Tate stopped. Constance was right . . . this wasn't something he would normally react rationally to. But he couldn't let his bitch of a mother be right, so he swallowed his anger and tried to breath.

"Are you okay?" Violet asked him, placing a hand on his shoulder.

Tate nodded, but he didn't want to risk saying anything yet. It might come out as a yell.

"Someone please catch me up!" Lily begged.

"Later, Lil," Violet replied. She sounded like she meant it, and Lily guessed who ever this Addie person was, she had been important to Tate.

"She lied right to my face," Tate managed to get out. He was proud that his voice had barely wavered. He could mourn his sister later; right now he needed to be calm. For Violet, for himself. To prove his mother wrong . . . "I asked her how Addie was doing and she lied."

"She thought it'd upset you too much, Tate," Violet told him. "As crazy as it sounds, I think the wacky bitch was trying to protect you."

"I don't need her protection anymore!" Tate snapped. "Look what good it's done me!"

He stormed out of the room without another word.

"Maybe we _shouldn't_ have told him he was a ghost," Lily said, sounding remorseful. "Sorry, Vi."

Violet brushed her off. "It's better that he knows. Maybe not right now, but it'll help him in the long run.

. . .

**You like? I really think I did a bad job at explaining this chapter, so if you're confused lemme know and I'll explain any questions at the beginning of the next chapter, just to clarify. Thanks for all the reviews, guys. Please keep it up=)**


	6. The Breakfast Club

**Disclaimer – I don't own American Horror Story. If I did, this wouldn't be on ; it'd be on the show. Come on people, logic. **

. . .

Violet couldn't fall asleep. Her thoughts wouldn't let her do so much as close her eyes. Did Tate hate her now? She'd kept the death of his sister a secret from him . . . Was he in denial? He seemed to take the whole _you're a ghost_ thing pretty well. But, then again, he had been on the verge of figuring it out himself. She has always known he hated Constance, but up until this point she hadn't really understood why. Looking back on it, there were more than enough reasons. The lady murdered his father, cheated on his step father, made him live in a house that drove him crazy, didn't pay enough attention to him (obviously, if she didn't notice he hung out with monsters in the basement), mistreated his siblings, and who knows what else. Violet probably would have shot up the school too, if it had been her, evil voice in her head or not.

She looked over at Lily's bed. Her cousin was fast asleep. Violet was pretty sure nothing on Earth could keep this girl awake past midnight, except maybe her computer. She was really great on that thing. She could hack into any software or website. They'd had a lot of fun at school during computer class posting gay porn on the school website.

For some reason, thinking of gay porn reminded Violet of her boyfriend. If it hadn't been for that day in the attic when they found some, the thought would have troubled her. Thinking of Tate made her heart ache and her stomach feel as though it had dropped ten feet down and left a hole where it should be. She wanted to find him and tell him she was sorry. She wanted him to cry about it, or at least show some kind of emotion . . .

She flipped over onto her back, frustrated. She caught a glimpse of something in the doorway; Tate.

She motioned with her hand for him to come inside. He entered her room, and sat down next to her on the bed.

"Are you okay?" she whispered, not wanting to wake Lily.

He shrugged.

"Are you mad?" she asked. He shook his head. "Will you say something?"

He was quiet for a few moments before replying, "If I weren't already dead, I'd commit suicide."

"I want to," Violet admitted. "More and more with each passing hour."

He looked at her, terrified. "No, Violet. You can't kill yourself."

"Why not?" she asked. "You just admitted you would."

"But that's different!" he insisted. "If you committed suicide, there'd be people who actually cared!"

She made a "pft" noise. "Like who? My parents? Please, they're too preoccupied with themselves to even notice if I were gone."

"I'd care," Tate told her. His voice and expression were hard to read.

"You're supposed to be the one who wants me to die," Violet told him. "You supposedly love me, right? Then wouldn't you want me to be with you?"

"You don't need to be dead to be with me," Tate told her. He sounded a little forceful, but also kind of scared.

"Not yet," she said. "But what about when I get older and you don't? That just wouldn't work . . . And how about when my parents move? Am I just supposed to stay behind here?"

Tate shook his head. "I don't want you to die for me."

"Too late," Violet told him. "Lily already agreed to help me, if I decided I really wanted too. There's nothing you can do to stop me this time."

"This time . . . ?" he repeated, confused. A look of comprehension crossed his face. "The pill thing . . . that was over me?"

Violet nodded. Tate buried his head in his hands. "How many more people are going to die and it's my fault?"

He was crying, Violet could tell. She probably would be too, if she just found out she had committed a massacre, her sister was dead, she was dead, and the person she loved had tried to kill themselves over her all in one day. It was a lot to take in.

She knew what she had to do. She had to tell him what he had already told her. She had to tell him the truth. She whispered into his ear, "I love you."

He sighed and looked up. "Are you just saying that or do you mean it?"

"I mean it," she promised. "I just . . . I'm not good with words. Or feelings. And telling someone you love them is both."

Tate smirked. That's what Violet liked, when he was happy. It made her happy too. She kissed him. "Will you stay?"

He nodded and she let him under the covers with her. He wrapped his arms around her and they both closed their eyes. It was hard to think when Tate was holding her. Hard to think about bad things, anyway. Violet was asleep in minutes.

. . .

"Violet!" Ben called up the stairs. "Violet wake up! We're going out for breakfast!"

It was Saturday morning, nearly ten thirty, and Violet still wasn't awake. This wasn't unusual for her, but Ben and Vivian had been reminding her to set her alarm this weekend all week. They were supposed to go out for a nice breakfast, then a walk on the beach. Family Day.

"Violet!" Ben yelled. He sighed. Teenagers were impossible. He began to climb the stairs.

"Uncle Ben!" Lily exclaimed, catching up to him. "Maybe you should just let her sleep; I mean . . . we had a hard day at school yesterday. There were a bunch of tests and stuff and I'm sure Violet's beat so . . ."

Her tone was almost . . . pleading.

"Come on, Lily, I'm sure she'll be fine," Ben assured his niece. "She'll get right up when she remembers we're going out to eat. We did this every weekend back in Boston, she loved it."

He continued up the stairs.

Lily's hands clenched into fists as she entered panic mode. Tate had fallen asleep with Violet the night before . . . If they weren't awake yet; Tate was probably still up there, right? Ben would find them!"

"Violet wake up!" Ben called.

Violet sat straight up in bed. She shook Tate awake. "Tate, my dad!"

Tate's eyes opened, but he was still half-asleep.

"Tate, my dad!" Violet repeated. "He'll kill you . . . again, hide!"

That woke him up. Tate jumped off Violet's bed and slid under it. Violet lay back down and closed her eyes just as her father opened the door.

"Vi?" he asked. "Are you awake?"

She didn't move. _Play the sleepy teenager card . . ._ she told herself.

He walked over to her bed and sat down on the edge. Tate slid his fingers out of the way just in time to miss Dr. Harmon's sneaker from landing on them.

Ben shook his daughter lightly. Violet pretended to wake up. "Ugh, what? It's still morning."

Ben chuckled. "Come on sleepyhead, get dressed. We're going out to breakfast."

"Where?" Violet asked.

"This little diner your mother found, it's called _Hard Boiled Breakfast_ or something like that," Ben told her. "Get dressed."

As soon as he left her room, Tate slid out from under the bed. "That was a little closer than I'd prefer."

"Same here," Violet agreed.

"But that's a good diner," Tate told her. "My step-father used to bring Addie and me there all the time."

A thought struck Violet. She smiled subconsciously. "So . . . would you say that's an important memory from your life?"

Tate shrugged. "I guess so, why?"

"Lily told me something . . . interesting. Wanna test it out?" She then proceeded to explain what Lily had told her, about him being able to haunt anywhere that was linked to his life.

"You think that the curse won't like . . . permit that from happening?" Tate asked.

Violet shrugged. "One way to find out. Try meeting us at breakfast."

"And if I can't?" Tate asked. "What will you tell your family?"

"Well, maybe I'll just get a fake text from you saying your mother needs you at home for funeral arrangements," Violet said.

"You are brilliant," Tate told her. "I knew there was a reason I liked you."

She scowled. "I have to change, get out."

"Do I have to?" Tate asked.

In response, Violet threw her pillow at him.

"Okay, okay!" he decided to try something else out. Ever since Violet had mentioned him always finding a way into her room, he had been stuck on this thought. He never really paid attention, but he was pretty sure he'd been teleporting around the house, just ending up where ever he wanted to go. Now was a good time to try . . .

Next thing he knew, he was standing in the front hall, in back of Lily who was staring up at the staircase with wide eyes. _Hey, it worked!_

He got an idea. Slowly, very slowly, he walked up behind Lily and covered her eyes.

"Hey, Tate," she greeted him calmly, not at all scared.

"Damn it!" he exclaimed. He released her and she turned around laughing. "How'd you know it was me?"

"Well," she said. "At first I was afraid Ben would go up and bust you guys. Then I felt hands over my eyes, and realized that I hadn't heard any yelling. I knew you must have left. Then, I thought to myself,_ gee, now who would try to scare me like that? Aunt Vivian, no, she's not like that. Uncle Ben and Violet are still upstairs. Moira wouldn't so that just leaves . . ._ And there you have it."

The women in this family were geniuses, Tate decided. "Ugh, whatever. I'll get you eventually."

"Keep thinking that," she retorted. "You don't scare the ghost girl."

Tate made a mental note to seriously creep Lily out. Normal scary wouldn't work on her . . . Whatever; he'd work on his plan later. "Violet wants to try something."

He told her Violet's idea for him to meet them at breakfast.

"And the beach later?" Lily asked.

Tate shrugged. "I guess so, I used to go to the beach a lot . . . But . . . how do I, you know?"

"Get there? Easy," Lily told him. "Just . . . Imagine going there in your head. Think about all the times you spent there in your life and focus_ really_ hard. You'll just end up there. Like you just ended up in the hall from Violet's room."

They heard footsteps from the second floor.

"That's probably Ben," Lily told him.

He nodded. "I've got a plan."

Sure enough, it was Dr. Harmon. He saw Tate, and a look of fatherly anger crossed his face. "Tate, what are you doing here?"

"Violet invited me for breakfast," Tate told him. "Didn't she tell you that?"

"No," Ben replied, sounding very annoyed.

Violet joined him on the staircase.

"Did you invite Tate to breakfast without permission?" Ben asked his daughter.

Vivian joined Lily and Tate in the hall way, whipping her hands on a towel. She looked up at her husband and daughter on the staircase.

"No, I told her she could," Vivian lied. Violet shot her a look of thanks when Ben wasn't looking.

"Oh . . . Well, alright then." He looked at Tate. "I don't know how much room we'll have in the car . . ."

"Oh that's alright," Tate said. Then he decided to have some fun, "I'll just drive my motorcycle."

Dr. Harmon's face was priceless.

Lily gave him a low five at an angle so Ben wouldn't see. "Nice . . ." she whispered.

"Well, I'll meet you guys there," Tate said.

Vivian nodded. "Okay, Tate. See you in a few minutes."

"Yeah find us a table," Violet called after him. He walked out the front door, trying to contain his laughter. Once he was on the front lawn, he did as Lily told him.

For the first time in twenty-seven years, Tate was staring at the interior of his favorite diner. Had he really not been here since he was ten? Well, either way, Lily's plan worked. Tate was out of the Murder House, and it wasn't even Halloween. Another first.

. . .

Violet was having more fun than she'd had in a while. She and Tate spent breakfast making lovey-dovey faces at each other and calling each other names like "sweetheart" and "honey" just to get under her father's skin. And it worked. And it was hilarious.

Now they were at the beach, and Violet was reminded of the last time she and Tate had come here.

"You don't think . . . _they'll_ come back. Do you?" she asked in a hushed voice.

"They can't," he reassured her. "As far as I know, they never came here when they were alive. And even if they did, they wouldn't try anything with your parents here."

"What will you do . . . when you see them again?" Violet asked.

Tate shrugged. "I don't know . . . Apologize, maybe. Explain myself. They probably won't forgive me but . . . I'll feel better that they know."

Violet realized that her father was looking at them suspiciously from the blanket he and Vivian were sitting on while she, Tate, and Lily gathered shells on the shore line. Lily was the only one really gathering shells, and Ben had noticed.

"Oh, Tate, you're so adorable!" Violet exclaimed, loud enough for her parents to hear. She laced her arms around his neck and kissed him.

"Messing with your dad is _too_ much fun," Tate said, looking at his expression when they broke apart.

"I know," Violet whispered back.

"Why don't you kids go swimming?" Vivian called to them. "The water looks really nice!"

Lily shrugged and dropped the shells she was holding. She pulled off her shirt and pants, revealing a black bathing suit. She jumped right into a big wave.

"Careful with the current!" Vivian added.

"We should probably get in the water too, before my mom gets all suspicious, huh?"

"Shouldn't she be more worried once we're _in_ the water?" Tate asked.

Violet laughed. "Probably. I think it's a test. So . . . come on, shirt off."

"Never thought I'd hear you say that outside my head," Tate admitted. Violet rolled her eyes. "But I can't."

"Why not?" she asked.

"Okay . . . if I take my shirt off I'll have a lot of explaining to do to your father," Tate told her. Violet still didn't understand, Tate could tell by her expression. He sighed. "Violet, try and think_ really_ hard. What would you find under the shirt of someone who was shot seventeen times in the chest?"

"Bullet wounds," Violet said. "I get it. So just get in with your shirt on and we'll tell my parents you're too self-conscious if they ask."

It took a little more convincing, but Violet finally got Tate to go in the water with her. She kept her shirt on too, just for him. She left her jeans on the blanket with her parents though.

The waves were brutal. Not as bad as they had been on Halloween, but still, you had to be a pretty strong swimmer not to get pulled away with the undertow. They weren't one after the other either, there would be a few minutes in between giant crashes, but they still swept you up.

Tate, Violet, and Lily came up with a game. They would wait for a big wave to come, and then jump into it at the same time. It would carry them back towards the shore, but whoever stayed out the furthest won. Tate won almost every time.

"It's not fair," Violet told him. "You grew up right at the beach. Lily and I are from Boston, we can only go swimming in the ocean for two or three months out of the year!"

Tate just laughed.

After they had been goofing off for a few hours, Lily decided to tell them her master plan. This was a good a time as any. There was no threat of Ben or Vivian over hearing, because they were all the way back on the shore.

"Okay, so I've been thinking," she said. "And I think Tate should start coming to school with us."

"_What?"_ Violet and Tate asked at the same time.

"Well, it's just that I figured it'd give him something to do during the day, and it'd make school a little less hard to get through because we'd have friends. And then Tate wouldn't just have to sit around the house all day, waiting for you to get home, Violet," Lily explained. "You'll be able to show up there because you spent so much of your actual life there. We know you can leave the house and haunt other places because . . . you're here."

"How am I going to enroll in a school, anyway?" Tate asked. "I'm dead, remember? And I doubt they'd let me back in after I killed fifteen kids anyway."

"So we have you steal someone's identity," Lily said. "Someone who wouldn't miss it."

"Like who?" Violet asked sarcastically. "Are you going to go to ?"

"No, but someone who's dead _can't_ miss their identity. A if the government doesn't _know_ they're dead yet . . ."

"What are you talking about?" Violet asked, getting scared. Lily had her _brilliant-yet-scary_ idea face on.

"Remember that girl your father cheated on your mother with?" Lily asked. Violet nodded. "She's buried under the gazebo."

"What?"

"Sh!" Lily put her hand over Violet's mouth. "I've seen her ghost skulking around the backyard. No one knows she's dead yet. I saw what happened in a vision, some crazy guy attacked her with a shovel and buried her. Your dad built that thing to cover it up. No one knows she's dead yet!"

"There's just a small issue with that brilliant plan," Tate pointed out. "Well, two actually. One, Hayden was twenty-one, two, I'm not a girl!"

"Please," Lily told him cockily. "You shouldn't doubt my computer skills. It's not that hard to change someone's year of birth and gender if you know your way around the right websites. Hayden can be a boy's name, right? So we just tweak with little stuff the government won't notice. Gender, and age, then you'll be set. I can enroll you in school and get you the same schedule as Violet and I have. I can even get you a driver's licenses."

"How will the government not notice that?" Violet asked, appalled.

"Please, people change their gender all the time. I trust me; no actress in all of LA was born in the year her I.D. says. The government lets you change these things a lot; they kind of just look the other way. It'll be easy as pie," Lily promised.

Violet looked at Tate. "What do you say? Wanna spend six and a half hours in hell with me every day?"

He shrugged. "I've got nothing better to do."

Another big wave came, and the teenagers resumed their game.

_Tate's coming to school with me . . . _ Violet thought._ This is going to be fun and weird. _

. . .

**Ah! Sorry this chapter kind of sucked, it was really more of a filler chapter. The next one's going to be so much fun to write. Tate in high school? Awesome. I hope I'll have it up by tomorrow, but I don't know. My sister and I are going with our little cousin to the Children's Museum, and then of course there's a new American Horror Story tomorrow (eep!). This fanfic probably won't make sense after it though . . . okay just keep in mind it takes place after Open House but before Rubber Man. Okay? Anyone have any theories on the next episode they wanna talk about? PM me I love talking AHS!**


	7. Pumped Up Kicks

**Disclaimer – I don't own American Horror Story**

**Alright, so let's all just pretend that Wednesday's episode didn't happen, and that my fan fiction still makes sense, shall we? For all you new readers (if there are any) if you haven't already noticed, this takes place after Open House. **

. . .

"How do guys dress?" Tate asked Violet and Lily Monday morning.

"Uh . . ."

"I mean . . . the last time I left the house for school was in '94 . . . help me out here," he explained, noticing their weirded out expressions.

"Oh!" Violet sighed in relief. "You scared me for a moment there. Guys . . . basically dress the same way. I doubt anyone will notice if you just wear your regular '90s clothes."

Tate nodded. "Alright and what type of music or bands are popular now?"

"Anyone asks, your favorite song is _Pumped Up Kicks_ by _Foster the People_," Lily told him.

Violet threw her pillow at her. "Not funny."

"I thought it was pretty funny," Lily replied, laughing.

"How does that song go?" Tate asked. Lily walked over to Violet's stereo and plugged in her iPod. She started the song at the chorus. Tate listened, then gave her an annoyed look. "Ha, ha, ha."

"I seriously dare you to say that," Lily said.

"I can't," Tate replied. "Don't you think people might think I look a little familiar? I shot up their school . . . they've probably all seen my picture. I don't need to mention liking a song about shooting children. That won't . . . help."

"Are you sure you handled the Social Security stuff?" Violet asked for the millionth time.

"Yes!" Lily told her. She pulled a small plastic card from her pocket and handed it to Tate. "There's your fake license."

Tate took it. It was his picture, put the information was all wrong. The name said, "Hayden McClaine" and the date of birth was about seventeen years off. The only thing that was true was that it said he was male, and seventeen.

"I don't know, Lily . . . this seems a little too easy. I mean, you made Hayden a guy, and about four years younger," Violet said. "And you got a new license with Tate's picture all in one day."

"I told you not to doubt my computer skills," Lily said. "Besides, the license part was easy. Do you know how many ghosts there are at the DMV? All I had to do was email one of them a picture of Tate and the information and ask to have it overnighted here via FedEx."

"And the gender and age changes?" Tate asked.

"Simple little tweaks I made on Hayden's birth certificate and what not. All I had to do was back up her credit card information—here's that by the way," she handed him another small card. This one was a Master Card. "It was simple."

"So . . . you hacked into some website illegally?"

"Pretty much. Does it matter?" Lily asked.

Tate and Violet looked at each other, then shrugged. "Guess not."

. . .

"And you're sure this is the bus I used to take?" Tate asked. "Because I won't be able to get on if it's not. I can only go places that were significant in my life . . ."

"Tate!" Lily exclaimed. "I know! I'm the one who told you this. And yes, I quadruple checked. This is the exact same bus that picked you up from this _exact same bus stop_ seventeen years ago. You're all set."

Tate nodded and took a few deep breaths.

"You're nervous?" Violet asked accusingly. "No one's going to remember you; they all know your dead."

"What if they ask?" Tate asked.

"Then we'll say he was your uncle or cousin or something," Violet told him. "It's going to be okay."

Tate swallowed. This was unbelievably hard for him.

The bus pulled up, and the three teenagers boarded. They sat next to each other in one of the back rows, Violet on Tate's lap so they'd fit on one seat.

"_Another _new kid?" the snobby bully from Friday asked.

Tate smiled. "Yup. I just transferred here from Military School across the country."

The bully's eyes widened and he turned around and faced straight.

Lily, Violet, and Tate snickered. Messing with people was so much fun . . .

. . .

First class of the day, English. Violet was kind of nervous, because this was one class that she shared with Leah, and now with Lily and Tate. She was sure that her frienmy would recognize her boyfriend from that day in the basement when Tate had set that . . . thing on her.

"Just act cool," Violet whispered as they entered the class room.

"Shouldn't be hard," Tate said cockily. Violet realized that the word "cocky" included the word "cock". As in, people with cocks were cocky. In other words; guys only. It made sense.

"Who are you?" the teacher asked Tate as he, Violet, and Lily entered the room.

"New student," Tate told him calmly. Being back in the school hadn't been so bad. He wasn't suddenly flooded with old memories of shooting kids like he had expected. In fact, he was just as miserable as he had been on any normal day of school seventeen years ago. The only difference being was that this time he was also enjoying himself a little. But that was probably due to Violet being with him this time.

The teacher checked her rooster. "Hayden McClaine?"

Tate nodded, still not used to his new name. "Yup, that's me."

"Well, I'm Ms. Allegory," she said.

Tate nodded and followed Violet to the window where they sat next to each other. "An English teacher named Ms. Allegory?"

She nodded. "So weird . . ."

"It's like . . . God wanted this for her."

Lily giggled, taking a seat behind her cousin. "Probably."

Leah entered the room then. She looked right at Tate, and her eyes grew impossibly wide. She took the seat furthest from them, and put her head down. She stayed like that throughout the entire class, and didn't approach them until the bell rang.

"You," she said. "What are you doing here?"

She was probably scared shitless, but somehow, her bitchy tone remained intact.

"Going to school," Lily replied in an equally bitchy tone.

"And who the hell are you?" Leah asked.

"Calm down, she's just my cousin," Violet said. "And this is Ta-Hayden, my boyfriend."

"You're _dating_ that monster?" Leah asked, repulsed.

"Lay off, bitch," Tate told her. "I'm not going to scare you again."

Leah gave her best glare, then walked away. Tate laughed.

"You should be careful," Violet warned him. "You're trying to keep a low-profile, remember?"

"What was that all about, anyway?" Lily asked.

"Tate scared her shitless for bullying me a few months ago," Violet explained. "She's still not over it."

"And she's the bitch that gave Vi those pills," Tate added.

Violet clamped her hand over his mouth. "Shut up! Do you want someone to overhear you? They'll ship me off!"

Tate rolled his eyes. "Let's just go to class . . ."

. . .

News of "Hayden McClaine" joining the class spread quickly. When Lily had entered the class last week, no one really cared because she was just a gothic freak. But Tate, he was a rather good looking young man who already had a girlfriend—who was known for smoking on school property and getting in fist fights—on his first day. That was something people liked to talk about, not some weird Goth girl.

"I hate this," Tate muttered. Everyone in the lunchroom was staring at their table.

"Hey, at least they're not staring at you because they know what you did," Lily pointed out.

"Since when are you one to look at the bright side?" he asked miserably.

Lily shuttered at the thought. "Never mind. You're right, this sucks monkey balls."

Violet nodded in agreement. "I need to punch someone . . ."

Lil got a brilliant idea. "Start making out."

"What?" Violet and Tate asked together, surprised.

"Start making out. Like . . . with tongue. Right now. Go!" she hissed.

"Why?" Violet asked.

"Because, they're all staring already. Make it look like it doesn't bother us! Make them uncomfortable!" Lily explained.

Tate shrugged. He grabbed Violet and pulled her onto his lap, then smashed his face against hers. They kissed long and hard.

Everyone in the cafeteria slowly turned around to face their own tables. Watching two dorks make out wasn't exactly something anyone wanted to see.

When Tate and Violet broke apart, they were impressed. "Nice job, Lil. No one's staring anymore."

"What class do we have next?" Tate asked.

"Computers," Lily replied. "In the library."

. . .

It wasn't until they entered the library and saw him that Violet remembered. The same librarian that Tate had shot seventeen years ago still worked here.

"Violet!" Tate hissed. "That's-"

"I know," she cut him off. "I totally forgot . . . I'm sorry. Wanna ditch?"

Tate was just about to say yes when he librarian's chair swirled around and he caught sight of them. More specifically, he caught sight of Tate. You could tell by the recognition in his eyes that he knew . . . that he remembered.

"I need to go talk to him," Tate said.

". . . What?" Violet asked in shock.

"I need . . . to apologize," Tate said. "I . . . I have to explain."

"Oh yeah, that'll blow over well," Lily said, back to her negative self. Tate began walking towards him anyway. Lily and Violet followed. "'Excuse me, Mr. Librarian, I know I almost killed you seventeen years ago but I honestly feel terrible. And it wasn't my fault; I was being possessed by a demon baby in my basement!'"

"Tate, Lily's right," Violet said. "It's not a good idea."

"I have to," he said.

The librarian looked up at them, but when he spoke he addressed Violet. "You wanted to know . . ."

His voice was scared.

"Sir," Tate said carefully. "My name is Hayden McClaine. I'm a new student here and was looking for a book on birds. Could you help me?"

The librarian's expression relaxed a fraction of a little bit. "O-of course. Follow me."

He led them to the back of the library, and into an empty isle about the Civil War. "Okay . . . are you here to finish me off?"

Tate shook his head. "I'm here to say I'm sorry. I didn't mean what I did, and it wasn't right. I feel so bad about it that it hurts. I wish I could go back and make it go away but I can't and it _sucks_."

Tears were welling up in his eyes. Violet had only ever seen Tate cry twice up to this point. Once when he saved her life, and again when he told her he loved her.

"Do you see this?" the librarian asked, pointing to a metal plaque that was positioned on the wall above him. There were identical ones all around the school. There were two in the library alone. He began to read the list of names aloud. "'Stephanie Boggs, Kelsey Jackson, Michael Rivera, Jay Cannavo, Danielle Levesque, Josh Sathre, Mark Finstein, Luke Maxcy, Chloe Stapleton, Kevin Gedman, Andrew Meyers, Amir Stanley, Kyle Greenwell, Jason Mueller, Jennifer Wright' You know who else died on that day?"

"Tate Langdon," Violet replied for him. Her voice was barley a whisper.

The librarian nodded. "That's right. And there's a damn good reason for it."

Violet snapped. She kicked the librarian's chair back against the wall. The force of impact knocked some books off the shelves. She grabbed his shirt collar and got right in his face. Her voice was still too quiet to be overheard, but fierce enough to get the point across. "Listen up. Tate couldn't _help_ what he did. I'm sure you've heard the rumors about the Murder House, right? Well that's where I live. And before I lived there, Tate did. The rumors aren't lies they're true. I've seen it. The house makes people do things they wouldn't want to normally, and _that's_ why Tate killed those kids. That's the reason. Nothing more than that so if you could come down from your high and mighty throne and except his apology, that'd be great."

She released him and stepped back. The man looked terrified.

Tate sighed. "_Please._ I just . . . I need you to forgive me."

"What are those scars on your face from?" the librarian asked quietly.

Tate's hand absentmindedly moved to his lips and traced one of them. He replied in a whisper, "The monster in the basement didn't like when I fought back."

Violet laced her fingers with his. "Let's just get back to the computers . . ."

"No, wait," the librarian said. He looked at Tate, who had tears running down his face. "I don't know that I'll ever be able to get over what you did. I don't even know if I believe you. But . . . it's been seventeen years. It's hard to hold a grudge for that long. I guess, I kind of forgave you a long time ago, and I've been hoping there was a good reason for it. Was there?"

"I don't know if I deserve it," Tate admitted. "It's my fault . . ."

"It's _not_ your fault!" Violet insisted.

"Violet, Lily, and Hayden!" Mr. Cox called. "If you're not back to these computers in five minutes I'm reporting you for bunking!"

"Let's go," Lily said, grabbing her cousin's hand. The three returned to their class without another word to the librarian, hoping he believed them.

But in truth, the doubted it.

. . .

**Ah! Okay sorry this chapter was difficult for me to write so I'm pretty sure that means it sucked. Ah well . . . Oh God I'm still not over the new episode! Tate's the freaking Rubber Man? NO! Haha but I think I know why he's the Rubber Man and the way I think it is makes it okay so I really hope I'm right. Now I'm not making sense. Okay bye . . . Please review!**


	8. Does This Count as a Proposal?

**Disclaimer – I obviously don't own American Horror Story. I do however **_**hate**_** having to type a disclaimer at the head of every chapter. Fucking , you're ruining the mood of chapter transitions! I mean, someone reading this probably read the last chapter and left off all, "DUN, DUN, DUN!" and then they click "next chapter" reading for the suspense to build but instead they get slapped in the face with this mother-fucking disclaimer. Yeah, feel bad.**

**You know who's a mother-fucker? Tate. Like, he's **_**literally**_** a mother-fucker. He fucked his girlfriend's mother . . . at least he didn't fuck his own mother. Nasty.**

**. . . Side tracked, much, Ally?**

**That was me talking to myself. **

**. . . Awkward silence. **

_**Okay here's the next chapter! **_

**Oh, no wait not yet! I forgot . . . I'm making Tate the Rubber Man in this, and before you ex out all pissed at me, I've got a good reason that will make everyone (hopefully) feel better about the whole thing. Oh, but everything else that happened in Rubber Man still doesn't . . . count here. Okay . . . now here's the next chapter. (PS, this was a 195 word opening, not counting this parenthesis. Longest one I've ever done). **

. . .

Tate sat next to Lily on the bus, Violet on his lap. He was rubbing his temples, trying to make it go away. "Vi, I think I need to see your dad again. ASAP."

"Why?" Violet asked, turning her body so she was facing him.

"I'm starting to have weird visions again but they're _way_ worse than before," Tate told her.

"_Worse_ than shooting up your school?" Violet asked. "What are they this time?"

Tate turned a similar shade as to that of a tomato. "Uh . . ."

"Come on," Violet said. "It can't be that bad. Besides, I won't judge you either way. You've got a freaking _demon_ nesting inside of you, that's probably going to cause some freaky shit to go down in your brain."

"Shh!" Lily hissed, looking around to see if anyone had heard. "Ix-nay on the demon-talking."

Violet mouthed, _sorry_ and she meant it. If someone over heard them talking, they'd either end up being admitted, or the kid would make fun of them. Neither would be productive. She turned her attention back to Tate. "_Please_ tell me? Now I'm curious so you have to."

"No," Tate said firmly, too embarrassed to tell her.

"Come on," she begged. "It would make me _really_ happy."

Tate almost laughed. "I can pretty much promise you it wouldn't."

Violet folded her hands together and made the puppy dog face—something she hadn't done in a while. "_Please? Please? Please, please, pleeeease?"_

"Ugh!" Lily exclaimed, throwing down the homework she was attempting to do. "Tate, you tell me and if I think Violet can take it, and then _I'll_ tell her. If not I promise to keep it to myself."

"I don't wanna tell you either," Tate replied.

"Well, you know I've heard that _some_ people can read ghosts minds . . . now would be a pretty good time to test it out, huh? Then I'd _always_ know what you're thinking," Lily threatened.

"Fine I'll tell you," Tate said quickly. He leaned in and whispered it in her ear. _I keep envisioning fucking Violet's mother._

If Lily didn't know what she did, she probably would have laughed. Under normal circumstances, it would have been pretty funny. But not after what she had recently learned. "Oh _shit."_

"What?" Violet asked, sounding concerned.

"Tate . . . the last time you had visions . . . it was because the part of Infantata that lives in you took over your body and made you kill people, right? And you didn't really _remember_ it . . . did you?" Lily asked, hoping for a different answer than what she knew was coming.

"Yeah . . . why?"

She winced. "Well . . . this time . . . what if it's no different than the last? What if Infantata possessed you again and made you . . . made you . . ."

"Made him _what?"_ Violet demanded.

Lily took a deep breath before quietly murmuring, "Do your girlfriend's mother."

"WHAT?" Violet exclaimed. Tate clamped his hand over her mouth. Few people turned around to see what was happening, but lost interest as soon as they saw who had yelled, so they turned back to face forward.

"Tate . . . you _fucked_ my _mother?"_ Violet hissed.

Tate looked scared. "I seriously hope not . . . That's sick!"

"It wasn't you," Lily told them, trying to be comforting. "It was the little demon baby that lives inside you."

Her voice flattened on the last word. She failed at the comfort thing.

"Oh _God,_" Violet said, a terrible thought dawning on her. "You don't think that . . . Tate, my mom's _pregnant . . ."_

Tate grabbed fistfuls of his own hair and shook his head. "No, no, no, no . . ."

Lily slapped her hand to her head. "I remember now! At the airport, when Aunt Vivian gave me a hug . . . I got that feeling I get when there's a ghost around. But . . . less."

Tate dropped his head into his hands; hot tears began spilling down his face. "Why can't I just be a good person?"

People were starting to turn around and _stay_ turned around. The bus was no place for a meltdown, and Violet knew that. But she was having a hard time containing _herself_, how was she supposed to help Tate? It must be _way_ worse for him . . . finding out you got someone pregnant, and not just someone but the girl you're in love with's mother? It was worse than finding out the guy you're in love with did your mother before you were dating. Not by much, but it was still worse. And Tate had that whole, _little-baby-demon-making-you-do-bad-things_ thing going for him. Violet tried to collect herself. She wrapped one arm around Tate's shoulder and kissed the top of his head. In a voice that was a little too loud she said, "I'm sorry about your brother, Tate."

"What happened to his brother?" a snobby kid who was sitting in front of them asked. She had turned herself around completely to watch the show.

"He just _died_," Lily lied. "Suicide . . . poor thing. He wrapped a plastic bag around his head that was filled with heroine and launched himself off a cliff and into the ocean. The coast guard found his body just this morning. Ta—Hayden got a call at school from his mother."

The kid's eyes grew wide and she turned back around, probably traumatized. Lily would have laughed hysterically if she hadn't just found out her friend knocked up her aunt. This whole thing was really killing Lily's mood . . .

"Tate, we need to talk to your mom," Violet said.

Tate looked up, his face damp. "Why the hell do we have to talk to _her?_ It's not like she's going to _do_ anything!"

"You said she knows about the curse on the house . . . maybe she'll know what to do about . . . _this_," Violet said.

"Meanwhile, you have to convince your mother to have an abortion," Lily told her cousin. "Because I've read about what happens when a ghost and a human make a baby . . . and let's just say we don't want to know."

Something clicked in Tate's mind. "Yeah . . . that's why I chose your mom."

"What?" Violet realized her was crying too. How long had that been going on for?

"I remember . . . when that _thing_ takes control of me, it's kind of like I'm still able to think a little bit. I remember him wanting me to get _you_ pregnant, Vi . . . but I wouldn't because I knew something bad would happen to you. Your mom was the only other one around so . . . that's who he made me do," Tate explained. He sounded a little unsure of himself as he said it, like he was still recalling the memory.

"Okay, it's official," Lily said. "Tomorrow the three of us are bunking and spending the day at Tate's mother's house."

"How am I supposed to get there?" Tate asked.

"You said you and your family lived next door after your mother killed your real dad, right?" Violet asked. "Well . . . Constance lives next door to us now. Probably in the same house, right? Just . . . try and remember living there, like you did with school and the bus."

Tate nodded. His mind was clearly elsewhere, probably thinking about having to see his mother again, or the fact that he was going to be the father of his girlfriend's siblings. _Twins_ Goddamn it . . .

. . .

"Will you stay?" Violet asked Tate later that night. The three of them had been hanging out in the room Lily and Violet shared, as they had been every day after school for three weeks, ever since Lily had come to stay at the Murder House.

He nodded numbly. He had cried at first, then he had gotten angry and thrown some stuff around, then he was sad again and angry at himself . . . Lily and Violet had watched. Now he was at the part where he just felt nothing.

He walked around Violet's bed and lay down next to her. She rested her head on his shoulder. "This sucks."

He didn't say anything, but she knew that he thought the same thing. Violet the remembered she was supposed to be baby-sitting Lily. She sat up and looked over at her cousin's bed. "Lily, did you kill yourself?"

"No," Lily replied groggily. She was already pretty much asleep. _Lucky bitch . . ._ Violet lay back down and but her head back on Tate's shoulder. This time, she also laced her leg through his from under the blankets. He still didn't soften his expression. He looked like he was in so much pain . . . It was hard for Violet to look at.

"What will it take to make you smile?" Violet whispered.

"To wake up," he replied hollowly. "And let this all have been a dream."

"What part is all?"

"Everything," he said. "Except you . . . and maybe Lily."

"She's a good kid," Violet admitted. "I'm happy she came to stay here."

Tate nodded in agreement, but he still looked depressed. Violet couldn't take it anymore; she smashed her face into his, hard. At first, he was surprised, but eventually, he started to kiss her back. It felt good . . .

He was happy Infantata had taken him over when he had done Mrs. Harmon. It meant that the details were fuzzy . . . When Lily had shown him the flashback of him killing those kids, he had remembered everything. He really hoped she wouldn't show him this. As long as this memory _stayed_ blurry, he was pretty sure he'd be able to make it through.

. . .

Dr. and Mrs. Harmon thought they were at school. To be quite honest, Tate would have _definitely_ preferred to be at that prison than where he was standing now. Outside his mother's house, that is.

Lily reached her hand out and rang the bell. A few seconds later, a guy answered the door. He wasn't much older than they were, probably in his early to mid-twenties.

"Is this the right house . . .?" Violet wondered out loud.

Lily nodded. "It's the right house. I'm sure of it."

"Can I help you?" the kid asked. He looked like something you might pull out of a biker's magazine. Pretty brawny with dirty blonde hair that needed to be cut.

"We're looking for Constance," Lily said. "We're her neighbors."

"You her new cock?" Tate asked. Violet elbowed him.

"Excuse me?" the guy asked.

"Who is it Travis?" Constance called from inside the house.

"Some kids, they want to talk to you!" Travis called back.

"Tell them to go away!"

"She's busy mourning the loss of her daughter," Travis covered smoothly.

"May I also mention that we have her son, right here," Lily said, pushing Tate forward.

Travis looked him over, and Tate did the same._ Wow, how did this poor guy end up with my mom?_

"Constance! One of them says he's yours!" Travis yelled.

Constance appeared in the door way, wrapping a bathrobe around herself. When she saw Tate, her annoyed expression changed to one of confusion. "Tate! Violet . . . what are you doing here? Who's this?"

She was looking at Lily.

"That's my cousin, Lily," Violet said. "She's kind of like your friend Billie."

"Uh . . . there's kind of something we need to talk to you about," Lily said. She looked at Travis.

Constance got the message. "Travis, dear, would you be as kind as to let me have a little quality family time with my son? He's been off at school for so long . . . Why don't you just run to that store and pick me up some of that special cream that you like so much."

She handed him some money. He nodded and walked past Tate, Lily, and Violet to his bike.

Constance addressed the children. "Come in, quickly."

They did as told, and Violet let the way into Constance's kitchen. They all took a seat at her little table.

"Now, would someone please like to _explain_ to me why Tate's here right now?" Constance asked.

"Lily figured out a way so that he can leave the house," Violet told her. "He's been coming to school with us. But that's not why we're here. We're here to talk about the curse on the house."

Constance's expression darkened. "Let me go call Billie."

She rose from the table, grabbed the phone, and left the room.

"Who's this Billie person?" Tate asked.

"Billie Dean Howard is your mother's medium she found on Craigslist," Violet explained. "She was originally supposed to help_ you _pass on."

"But I couldn't even if I wanted too," he reminded her. "The curse on the house . . ."

"It is possible that your mother doesn't know that part," Lily mentioned. "She's not a ghost herself, so there's no way she could possibly know that you're _incapable_ of passing on unless she has an inside source."

"_Addie_ was her inside source . . ." Tate sighed as he looked at the picture of the two of them on the counted. It had been taken in the back yard of the Murder House when he was still alive.

Constance reentered the room and put the phone back on the receiver. She sat back down. "Billie should be here any minute. Now what's going on? What do you need to know about the curse?"

"We know that part of Infantata is in Tate," Violet said. "We want to know how that happened. It's not like Tate was born in the house or anything."

Constance looked at her as if debating whether or not to answer.

"If you lie, I'll know," Lily told her. "No one lies to me without me knowing. Ever."

Constance looked over her creepy Goth clothing and locked eyes with Lily during one of her death-glares. She decided to go with the truth. "Tate was the only _normal_ one. The house decided to punish me . . . so it took him. Part of that _demon_ spawn of the Montgomery's attacked him while he was playing one day. I don't know how he did it, I wasn't there. All I know is that Tate was just sitting in the living room of that God forsaken house playing with his siblings when Addie started crying. By the time I got in there, Tate was half dead on the floor. He was never the same after that . . . He'd do wicked things and not recall them. He'd lie to me . . . he never used to lie to me."

She looked at her son, but he looked away.

"You were never there!" he snapped.

Constance sighed.

"Please . . . what happened next?" Violet asked. Her usual _don't-mess-with-me_ tone of voice was gone, replaced by something a little more vulnerable. The same way it had for a little while after she found out that she loved a dead boy. She was scared, and she had the right to be.

"Well, that's really all I know," Constance told them. "I tired time and again to figure out what was wrong with him. It wasn't until after he died but I still saw him roaming around the house that I figured it out. That house was _cursed_. Moira appeared after that, asking for her job back. She looked . . . different. Old . . . I almost didn't recognize her at first. Then Hugo came back too. I couldn't live like that, so I took Addie and moved out."

"What happened to _Larry?"_ Tate said the name like it tasted badly on his tongue.

Constance shook her head. "Gone until recently. That man's taken an interest in your father, Violet."

"The creep on Halloween . . ." Violet said.

"The guy who killed Hayden . . ." Lily added. "When's that medium getting here?"

"Soon," Constance said. "So . . . what's so special about you? Can you hear things from the _great beyond?"_

Her voice was mocking, but Lily didn't take offence. "God no. I can just see ghosts, even if they don't want me to. And I can tell where a person's died, and even get visions of what happens. I can't like . . . talk to passed spirits though."

"So you're not a medium, then," Constance told her.

Lily already new that and she had for a while.

The doorbell rang. "That'll be Billie."

Constance rose from her chair once again, and returned with the medium.

Billie looked at Tate. "So you're the famous Westfield Shooter, eh?"

"Not exactly," Tate replied.

"Oh no," Billie said. "Your mamma's told me _all_ about it. How you've got that mean old monster making you do things?"

She was making fun of him.

"Shove it up your ass," Lily told her. "We need your help, but if all you're going to do is make Tate feel like crap then bugger off before I punch you. Hard."

Billie actually looked freighted (which she should be, Lily was very serious). "What do you need to know?"

"Well . . . first off, Tate's got something he's gotta tell you," Lily said. Everyone looked at him.

"Why do I have to say it?"

"Because you're the one who _did_ it," Lily told him. "Logic."

Tate took a deep breath. "Infantata kinda made me . . . knock up Mrs. Harmon."

He felt his cheeks get red. This was the most embarrassing thing to have to tell your mom, _ever._

"YOU DID _WHAT?_" Constance and Billie dean screamed at the same time.

Constance leaned in closer to her son's face. "DO YOU HAVE ANY IDEA WHAT WILL HAPPEN?"

"End of the world or some shit," Lily said calmly. "We've got that part down. We just wanna know what Infantata'd want a ghost-baby."

"Nora wanted a baby." The words came out as Tate remembered what had happened. "She wanted the gay couple to have a baby . . . that's why he—I killed them. They were fighting . . . she really wanted a baby."

"'_Where's my baby?'_"Lily repeated. "She kept asking that . . . I saw her when I got here, out on the lawn. She kept asking where her baby was . . . She just wanted her baby."

"So that's what this is about?" Constance asked on the verge of hysteria. "That_ bitch_ wanted another baby? Look what the first one did!"

She pointed at Tate.

"Is there a way to get the part of Infantata's soul out of Tate?" Violet asked suddenly.

"Of course," Billie Dean told her. "But it's not a pretty process."

"_How?"_ It wasn't so much a question, really more of a demand for an answer. Anything to make Tate be Normal Tate all the time.

"Marriage," Billie told her solemnly. "To a virgin."

"Well that's not so bad," Violet said, relaxing a little.

"He would have to kill her though, as part of the ceremony. It's all very precise," Billie added. "You see, when you're married, you're no longer the same person. You no longer own your own body, because you and your spouse are to share everything. What's yours is theirs. It's the same thing with evil spirits. If Tate marries, Infantata will have no choice but to leave his body because it won't belong to Tate anymore. She'd have to be a virgin though, because if not, her body already partly belongs to someone else. Whoever you're first time is owns a little piece of you. And the girl would have to die because . . . well, a living person can't marry a ghost. Tate would have to do it too, or it wouldn't count."

Violet's insides tensed up again. "Fine. Whatever."

"Vi?" Tate asked.

"I'll marry him," Violet said. "If it'll get that _thing_ out."

"Violet!" Tate protested. "There's no way in hell—"

"Too bad," Violet interrupted. "Billie, you'll need to help us."

"No problem," Billie said. "But it has to be done on a certain date, or else we'll have to wait a whole other year. But don't worry; we've got plenty of time from now until then to prepare."

"Violet I'm not going to let you—"

Violet put her hand over Tate's mouth. Her mind was made up. She was getting married.

. . .

**DUN DUN DUN! LOL Are you guys mad at me? . . . I hope not! Thanks for all the reviews by the way! Is it bad that I read them all over and over because it makes me feel good about myself?**

_Ally you narcisitic bitch, stop loving yourself so much!_

**That's just what I assume you guys are thinking^^^^**

**LOL please don't actually thinkg that! You guys are just so nice to me I love it! Haha hooo okay I'm seriously starting to sound like an attention whore . . . Just please keep reviewing, reading feedback is like my own personal meth =) 333**


	9. Sleep

**Disclaimer – I don't own American Horror Story**

**DO YOU ALL HATE ME? I'M SORRY IT'S JUST I HAD TO! Sorry I added that whole "marriage" thing in so badly. I didn't really know how to introduce it so I was just like "Billie can do it!" Haha but that's seriously my theory about how the show's gonna end based on stuff I saw online and in the "You're Going to Die in There" thing on so . . . yeah. Sorry!**

**Also, I've been seeing this poems like this a lot on Tumblr. Here's one (I think it should be called 'Letter to Violet' ha-ha);**

_**Tate's face is red**_

_**Your spirits are blue **_

'_**Cause he fucked your mom**_

_**Before he fucked you**_

**Haha . . . that shouldn't be as funny as I think it is. **

. . .

"Lily, you're not _actually_ going to let her do this, are you?" Tate asked for the millionth time.

"I'm not _letting_ her do anything, I don't control her," Lily told him _again._ "Now if you bother me with this stupid shit one more time, I'll kill you. _Again._"

She looked back down at her homework that she was convinced would never get done.

"Billie says I have to wear my mother's wedding dress, but then I told her my mother wasn't a virgin when she was married. She told me to ask you if Constance was," Violet said as she entered the doorway. She was holding the phone into her shoulder, probably talking to Billie Dean once again.

"Violet, we are not getting married!" Tate exclaimed.

Violet actually laughed. "So I'm just going to tell her no . . ."

She left the room again and Tate flopped down onto her bed. "I'm so screwed . . ."

"What's the big deal?" Lily asked. "I thought you loved Violet. Wanted to like, be with her forever and all that."

"Not this way," Tate said. "Not because she feels that she has to. And I . . . can't kill her."

"Says the man whose committed murder on three different occasions totaling up to a grand number of _eighteen_ deaths," Lily pointed out. "And you fucked her mother."

"Please don't bring that up!" Tate begged. "And besides, that wasn't even _me._ It was stupid monster baby . . . The only person I ever killed because I wanted to was that bitch Bianca who was trying to kill Violet . . ."

"You love her, right?" Lily asked.

"Yeah . . ."

"And she loves you, right?"

"I guess so . . ."

"Then you're supposed to be married. End of story. Now may I _please_ do this damn calculus homework?"

Tate closed his eyes and tried to clear his head. Violet was making him kill her . . . How ironic. He had saved her life by _not_ killing her and impregnating her mother instead, but now because of that he _has_ to kill her. Life's a bitch.

Violet came back into the room and sat down next to him. She looked at Lily. Her cousin clearly got the message, because she grabbed her text books and left the room, probably to finish her homework at the table.

"I thought you'd like this," Violet said as she traced small circles on Tate's forehead, trying to annoy him him into sitting up.

It worked. "Why would I like this, exactly? Did you not hear her, Vi? I have to _kill_ you. And you have to get married. We're still teenagers!"

"Hey," Violet said. She pulled herself on top of him. "Don't think of it like that. Think of it more like, I love you so much that I'm willing to die to protect you, just like you'd do for me . . . if you could, that is."

"But that's the thing," Tate told her. "I _can't_ do it for you. It's not fair to you that you have to do something this extreme. And besides, how often do teenagers actually stay in love with their boyfriends and girlfriends forever? Not many."

"I thought about that," Violet admitted. "But Lily says that if a ghost dies in love, he or she can't fall out of love or in love with a different person. Their emotions stay the same as they were the second that they died. So I wouldn't have to worry about that, and neither would you. She said it's most likely that now that you're in love with me, you'll never be able to stop. It's screwy and messed up and complicated but . . . I don't really care that much."

Tate lay back down on the bed, pulling her with him. He sighed. "Violet . . . I remember what it felt like when I thought I had found you dead in here. I don't want to feel that way ever again."

"But you won't have to!" she exclaimed. "I'll be _here_ with you even after I'm dead. Please Tate . . . I don't want you having part of Infantata in you. It's not right and you don't deserve it."

"I deserve a lot worse . . . for everything I did in life."

"But that wasn't your fault either!" Violet told him, exasperated. She noted to herself that you couldn't spell irritate without _Tate._

"Violet I'm just not comfortable with this," Tate told her. He was begging, and she could tell. But she wasn't about to let him give up what would probably be the only chance he ever got to get that _thing_ out of him. Also, Violet knew that she didn't want to be with anyone but Tate. She also knew that that could very well change in a few years, and she really didn't want that to end up happening. If she was a ghost, she's love him forever no matter what, and that sounded pretty good to her.

"Tate, I'm doing this. Because I love you and because I know you love me. Think about it, I would have to die for us to be together eventually anyway," she pointed out.

"Okay . . . if you marry me you'll be giving up a lot." He didn't want to have to do this, but if driving Violet away meant saving her life, then so be it. "You'd never be able to get any older than you already are. And you'd never be able to have kids, or get your own house, or go to college . . . Vi, you'd be giving up your life."

"I. Don't. Care!" she insisted. She was about to continue arguing with him but suddenly, she became very sleepy. She yawned. "I'm . . . tired."

Tate nodded. "Yeah . . . me too. That's weird I wasn't . . . a second . . . ago."

They were both having trouble keeping their eyes open. They kicked off their shoes, and climbed under Violet's covers together. Despite being a little mad at her, Tate found the energy to wrap his arms around her waist and hold her close. She was warm and alive and she had blood pulsing through her veins. Tate wanted her to stay that way forever.

They fell asleep like that, in each other's arms. But they weren't the only ones. Simultaneously, everyone in the house became _very_ sleepy, and lay down just to rest their eyes. Everyone that is, except for Charles and Nora.

The house knew it was their anniversary. The house adored Charles and Nora, and wanted to make sure that their anniversary was a happy time, so the house put everyone else to sleep. Lily at the table, her head on top of her algebra book. Moira in the kitchen leaned over the counter top, still holding the wet sponge. Troy and Bryan in the basement sprawled out on the floor.

Charles and Nora met in the front hall. It was nearly identical to the way it had been when they had been alive, all those years ago. Nora rested her head on Charles's chest. "Charles . . . where's our baby?"

. . .

**Wow, this chapter's kinda short, huh? Sorry 'bout that . . . Haha sometimes I just don't pay attention to the word count until I get to the end. Sometimes I add more on but not today . . . only because the only significance of this chapter was to put across the point that Tate **_**really**_** doesn't want to marry Violet but Violet doesn't give two shits. Okay . . . that is all. Please keep up the reviews, thanks a lot!**


	10. The Rapist

**Disclaimer – I don't own AHS**

**I'M SO SORRY I HAVEN'T UPDATED IN SO LONG I FEEL TERRIBLE!**

**Also, I'm going to be incorporating certain things about the newer episode, such as Travis dying and Constance being abusive. Okay . . . go. **

. . .

"Vi, did Billie Dean actually give you a date for this . . . murder?" Tate asked. It wasn't a wedding, not to him anyway.

"Yeah," Violet replied, absent mindedly switching her lighter on and off. It was really starting to irritate Lily.

"Could you cut that out?" she asked her cousin.

Violet shook her head. "No . . ."

"When?" Tate asked.

"December 24th," Violet replied.

"Please cut it out!" Lily exclaimed.

"No!" Violet repeated.

"Fine, then I'm going to need to borrow it for a second." Lily grabbed the lighter from Violet's hand, lit a cigarette and placed it in her mouth. She handed the lighter back to its owner. "Proceed. I'm prepared now."

Violet rolled her eyes and went back to using up her lighter fluid. "Thank you, Tate. For letting me help you."

Really, it should be him thanking her, but Violet knew that Tate would do anything to stop her from marrying him. It wasn't that he didn't love her, he did really. It was just that he didn't want her to have to throw her life away for him.

"TATE LANGDON!" Constance screamed. She sounded angry. _Really_ angry.

"Get down!" Tate instructed the girls. The three of them were sitting outside the house, in the place Violet liked to go to smoke. She and Lily jumped over the ledge and hid behind it, just as Constance came around the corner.

"Tate!"

"Hi, Mom," Tate said. "Here to yell at me some more?"

She slapped him. "You're lucky I don't tell Dr. Harmon everything that's going on. Travis is _dead_, Tate. And I know you did it."

"I don't know what you're talking about," Tate said. Constance slapped him again, and he fell back against the ledge. "Mom, stop it."

"Why do you kill people?" Constance screamed, hitting him again. Over and over.

It wasn't so much that it hurt Tate, because in reality, it didn't. Constance wasn't very strong, and if he wanted to Tate could _make_ her stop hitting him. It was really more the childlike fear that still lived in him. The fear of Constance's hand . . . It might not hurt now, but that didn't change the fact that it used to.

"Mom, stop it!" He was biting back tears. Violet and Lily were right behind him, they could probably see everything from their position. If Constance only knew . . . "Mom, it wasn't me! I didn't kill your boy toy! It was one of the others, Mom I promise!"

"She's hitting him!" Lily hissed as quietly as she could into Violet's ear.

Violet was too angry to answer. Angry at Constance, for raising a hand to her child, and blaming him for a murder he didn't commit.

"Who did it then, Tate?" Constance screamed.

Tate did something he'd never had the courage to do as a child. He pushed her off of him. He couldn't hold it in anymore, hot tears spilled down his face. "You can't do that anymore!"

Constance fell back onto the pavement. She looked terrified. "Tate I-I . . ."

"It wasn't me," Tate repeated. "It was Hayden. Dr. Montgomery cleaned it up for her, and Larry hid the body. It wasn't me."

Constance rose to her feet, not making eye contact. When she spoke, she sounded nervous. "I-I'm sorry I blamed you, Tate. I'll . . . just go now."

She turned around and began walking back to her own home.

Tate punched the bricks. His knuckles started to bleed, but he didn't care. "Bitch!"

Violet jumped over the other side and held him against her. "How long has she been doing that to you?"

"A while," Lily replied for him. "Probably since he was a toddler. What was it, Tate like, three, four?"

"How do you know that?" Tate asked; his voice hoarse.

"When she hit you, even though it wasn't very hard, you were scared. Much like a child would be when being attacked by an adult. Despite being larger than Constance, you hesitated to push her away from you. Probably because you were used to not being able to. Am I right?"

"That's creepy," Violet told her. "That personality profiling thing you do."

Lily shrugged. "It's a gift."

"One of many," Tate added. "And, you're right. She's been doing that to us for as long as I can remember."

"Us?"

"Addie, Beau . . . me . . ."

"That sucks," Lily said.

Tate whipped his face on his sleeve and let go of Violet. "Not anymore. Next time she tries something . . ."

"_I'll_ kick her ass," Violet said. "But if I'm feeling kind enough I'll let you help."

Tate grinned.

"Guys, lunch!" Vivian called from inside.

. . .

"It's weird," Lily said the next morning on the school bus. "It's like . . . you're getting married, which is supposed to symbolize your parents giving you away, yet they don't even know you're getting married."

"Shh!" Violet held a finger to her lips. "The last thing we need is people on the bus thinking I'm pregnant or something."

"Why would they think that?" Tate asked.

"What other reason do teenagers get married?"

"True . . ."

"Do you guys just want to skip again?" Lily asked. "I really don't feel like facing bullies today. I'm tired . . . and we have to talk to Billie Dean _anyway . . ._"

"Lily, you're always tired, and we're meeting Billie Dean after school _tomorrow," _Violet said. "Why don't you want to go to school?"

Lily looked down at her feet. "No reason."

She was sitting in the aisle across from Tate and Violet, by herself. Violet jumped across and pushed Lily up against the window. Tate leaned in closer. Together they both said, "talk."

Lily started playing with her hands. "You're dad's dismissing me half-way through second period. He says it's high time I started my 'therapy'."

"So?" Tate asked. "Dr. Harmon's a decent therapist . . ."

"But I don't like talking about my feelings!" Lily exclaimed. "Especially not to the guy who broke my aunt's heart . . ."

"Okay how about this," Violet said. "Make it fun. The entire time my dad is talking to you, think about how Tate totally fucked the shit out of his wife."

"Violet!" Tate exclaimed, turning bright red. He looked around to make sure no one had overheard.

"What is it, _Hayden?"_ Violet replied, reminding him that it didn't matter. People didn't know his real name anyway.

It was kind of weird that Violet could talk about her boyfriend having sex with her mother without an issue. Tate didn't know whether to be happy or offended.

Lily laughed. "That'll definitely make it easier . . . thanks."

. . .

"So, Lily," Ben said. "Let's begin. So, why did you try and kill yourself?"

"I felt like it," Lily replied.

"Why did you feel that way?"

"Because I did."

"That's not an answer, Lily. Come on, I'm your Uncle. You don't have to keep secrets from me, we're family."

"Really?" Lily asked, leaning forward in her chair. "Because _you_'ve been keeping an _awful_ lot of secret from us, haven't you _Uncle_ Ben?"

"What do you mean?" Ben asked.

"You've been keeping so _big_ secrets . . . Especially from Auntie Viv."

"What are you talking abou—"

"Let's just say I know all about the skeletons in your closet, or should I say—under your gazebo," Lily remarked proudly, leaning back again.

Ben's stomach erupted in butterflies. "I don't know what you're talking about."

"Liar." Lily grabbed his tape recorder off the table and switched it off. "You buried Hayden's body under there, didn't you? You might not have killed her, but you didn't exactly report the crime either. Who actually did it? That's my question. Was it that dilapidated guy who's always creeping around outside? Yes I think it was . . . What's his name? Larry?"

"How did you—"

"And he loves Constance, doesn't he? Tate doesn't like him very much though, at least he doesn't seem to," Lily interrupted. "But you don't feel bad, do you? I can tell. Right now, you're worried. Worried that I'm going to tell someone. I won't, I promise. They already think I'm loopy, how do you think they're react to finding out I've claimed there's the dead body of someone who was reported as alive yesterday under my Uncle's gazebo that went up almost a month ago?"

Ben was in a state of shock.

"Violet and Tate know, too. But they won't tell anyone either," Lily added. "Moira and Constance watched you bury her . . . Well, they watched Larry burry her. Right on top of another body . . . that's harsh."

"What do you mean _another body?"_ Ben asked, snapping out of his shock.

Lily was amused. "Wow. You don't even know that much, do you? You're such an idiot . . . Will you take me back to school now?"

"Not until you tell me exactly what you know," Ben demanded. "Now."

Lily—who had started to get out of her chair—sat back down. "Fine. Everything I know about this house? Let's start with the Montgomery's. The original owners, that is. Charles Montgomery was a doctor, but they fell on hard times, so he started doing illegal and secret abortions, down in the basement of this house."

Ben cringed.

"Someone found out, and they were mad. So they kidnapped his son, Thaddeus, and chopped him up into little pieces," Lily continued. "When Charles and his wife, Nora, found out, they were devastated. Charles tried to stich Thaddeus back together, but it ended badly. Some people believe the spirit of their son still haunt these halls. Nora was mad at Charles, so she killed him. Then she killed herself. The first murder/suicide of this house. That was in the twenties. Then, in the forties, a dentist lived here. Ever hear of the Black Dahlia? A lot of people think she was killed here. I'm one of them. Twenty years later, in the sixties . . . Well you already know all about the nurses that lived here. Those idiot Four Manson guys tried to recreate it with your wife and daughter. Next came the seventies, when two twin boys were found _dead_ in the basement of this place. In the eighties, your friend Larry lived here. He was cheating on his wife, and she found out. At least, that's how the story goes. The next day, there was a fire reported at this address, the wife and two daughters were found dead. The police called it an accident; I call it the second case of murder/suicide in this house. The nineties were just as cruel. The guy behind the Westfield High Massacre lived here, and guess where the S.W.A.T. team shot him down?"

Ben didn't say anything, so Lily answered for him. "Your daughter's room."

"You're lying," Ben said certainly when he found his voice.

"Oh but the sad part is, I'm not," Lily promised. "Google it. You'll see that I'm right."

"There was never a massacre at your school," Ben pointed out.

"Yes there was," Lily said carefully. She didn't want to mention Tate's name. Although, Ben Harmon was so close minded when it came to the super natural, he'd probably write the name similarity off as a coincidence and never think of it again. Still . . . you can never be too careful. "Some kid showed up to school with some guns back in '94. Fifteen people died, and a few others were injured. Like the school librarian, who's still there now. _Now _will you take me back to school?"

Ben nodded numbly. She was lying, he knew it. She _had_ to be lying . . .

. . .

"I feel bad for Lily," Violet said as she and Tate sat down for lunch alone. "I mean, her parents made her move across the country _alone_ for therapy. That sucks."

"Whenever you say therapy, all I can think of is that old SNL skit where it's like Jeopardy, and the guy says _the rapists_ instead of _therapists."_

"Let's remember who the rapist is in this scenario," Violet told him.

He made a face. "Not funny."

"I thought it was pretty funny . . ."

. . .

**Sorry this chapter was shorter than it should have been after making some of you guys wait for almost a week. Sorry! I feel really bad but time kinda just slipped away from me . . .**


	11. Make it Stop

**Disclaimer – AHS I own not. **

**BOOM. Just went Yoda on you.**

. . .

"Good afternoon, Dr. Harmon," Tate said, sitting down in the chair. "How are you today?"

"You know, Tate," Ben said, leaning forward a little. He grabbed his tape recorder off the table. "I don't think we'll need this today."

"Is there something wrong?"

"Not with you," Ben assured him. "Just something one of my earlier patients mentioned . . . About a school shooting."

_Lily you're going to die if he's talking about what I think he's talking about._ Tate thought. Maybe she had suddenly developed the ability to read ghosts' minds.

"Yeah . . ." Tate said. "That's some crazy shit man . . . Those psychos that just go in and start shooting people."

Ben nodded. "You go to West Field High, right Tate?"

"Uh yeah," Tate said. "I just started back up there."

"You know, there was a Tate Langdon at that school in '94. He led a school shooting," Ben told him. "It's funny that the two of you have the same name, don't you think?"

He wasn't so much accusing Tate of anything—not yet anyway—more so he was just looking for answers; he seemed pretty confused. Tate needed a lie, and a good one. "Oh yeah, that. I was hoping we wouldn't end up that subject. See . . . My name's not really Tate, that's just what everyone calls me. Like a nickname."

It felt so weird saying such a clearly obvious lie. You'd have to be a pretty big sucker to buy into it.

"Okay," Ben said, slightly relieved. "I was just wondering . . . Where did the nickname come from?"

"Well," Tate said, trying to think fast. "Tate Langdon . . . the one that shot all those people . . . he was my uncle. He had some type of psycho-disorder, that's why he shot up the school. My mom was all upset when the S.W.A.T. team took him down, and she thought I looked a lot like him so to kind of get back at them or something, she started calling me Tate. That way they'd be reminded of what they did to her brother if they ever crossed her path again or something like that. It's stupid and crazy, I know, but it stuck . . ."

Ben was totally buying into everything Tate was saying. Probably due to the fact that Ben _wanted_ to believe him more than anything. When he thought about it, he had a patient with the same name as a dead murderer, and said patient used to have fantasies about killing people. Also, his ex-mistress died, right in front of him, and then showed up at his doorstep on Halloween. Now his niece was telling him all types of murder stories, and he was scared.

It was a natural reaction for someone who's not aware of the supernatural.

"Alright Tate . . . I'm sorry if that was a little weird it's just . . . I've been a little on edge," Ben exclaimed.

Tate gave him a fake smile. "No problem, Dr. Harmon."

. . .

"You're going to die," Tate told Lily later that night when he entered her and Violet's room.

She put down the borrowed anime book she was reading. "What about anime is deathly?"

Tate rolled his eyes. Lily—who was lying with half of her body hanging upside down off the bed—sat up the right way and looked at him. "What's wrong?"

"I just had _very_ interesting conversation with Violet's dad about the West Field High Massacre," Tate told her.

She winced. "Ooo . . . he mentioned that? Sorry man . . . did he know it was you?"

"Of course not!" Tate exclaimed. "I'm _dead_, remember?"

"So then what's the problem, Gorgeous?" Lily asked. She didn't mean it in a hitting-on-you way, Lily was just like that. She'd say the exact same thing to the ugliest person on the planet. Lily was just . . . odd.

Tate sat down next to her and put his head in his hands. "This stupid wedding-thing that Violet's making me do . . . I don't want to kill her, Lily."

Lily stood up and walked over to the opposite side of the room. Her necklaces and bracelets clanged and jingled together as she walked. Why hadn't Tate noticed that before? You really could here Lily coming from a mile away. She leaned up against the wall and faced him. "You really haven't figured out the answer to your problem?"

"You have?" Tate asked.

She snorted. "Don't insult me. It's a simple solution, really."

"Will you tell me?"

Lily looked down. "I don't know . . . Violet's really set on doing this. She wants to help you Tate, and I can't say I blame her. You've got a freaking _demon_ living inside of you."

"_Please!"_ Tate begged. "I . . . there's no way that I would possibly get Violet out of this. And I _can't_ kill her . . . It was different before, Infantata would kill people for me. The only person I ever killed in my right state of mind was that _bitch_ Bianca . . ."

Lily sighed. "Tate . . . I really want to help you. But Violet would never forgive me."

"Don't tell me then," Tate told her. "Just give me hints. Help me figure it out."

Lily thought for a moment. "Okay . . . alright, I guess I can do that . . . Start with this, what were the conditions that Violet had to follow to be able to break the curse on you?"

"She had to marry me, be living, and a virgin," Tate said. "So?"

"What are the two things on that list that you can fix right now?"

"The living thing and the virgin thing," Tate said. "But I'm obviously not going to kill her and there's no way she'd let me in her pants."

"There you go!" Lily exclaimed. "_Make_ her let you into her pants!"

"How?"

"Seduce her," Lily hissed.

Tate wasn't so sure.

"Make her _want_ you, Tate," Lily added. "Make her feel like if she doesn't have you right then, she'll _die." _

Tate nodded. "Okay . . . if you think that'll work. There's only one problem."

"That being?"

"That will _never_ work on Violet. Where is she anyway?"

"Bathroom."

"Been in there a while . . ." Tate realized what was happening a split second before he finished his sentence. He stood up and ran out of the room.

The bathroom door was locked. He pounded on it. "Violet! Let me in!"

No reply.

"Violet!"

Nothing.

Violet _was_ inside though. And she was doing something she promised she wouldn't.

Tate was suddenly there, behind her, grabbed the razor from her hand. "You promised not to do this anymore!"

"How the hell did you get in here?" She asked.

"Perks of being a ghost," he told her. "But that's not the point! Violet why are you doing this, you promised?"

Violet locked eyes with him, and suddenly, before she could stop them, tears were streaming down her face. "I'm scared, Tate! I don't want to die!"

"You don't have to!" Tate couldn't help but yell. "That's what I've been telling you! You don't _have_ to do this for me, Violet! I'm not making you!"

She shook her head. "No, Tate. I have to do this because I want to. But . . . It's scary."

"Well then why the hell do you want to do it?" Tate asked, exasperated.

"Because I love you, Tate! And there's no way in hell that I'm going to let you be a bad person just because there's a stupid demon inside of you," she shouted.

Tate sighed and ran his hands through his hair. "Okay . . . okay . . . I still think you're crazy."

"But you'll do it?" Violet asked. "Please Tate . . . it's really important to me. And if you don't I'll just kill myself anyway and then you'll be stuck with me _and_ have an evil spirit living in you."

Tate shook his head. He couldn't kill Violet . . . he could barely think about it. But she was going to kill herself anyway . . . "Fine. Whatever, I'll do it."

Violet sighed in relief. "Okay . . . thank you."

"VIOLET AND LILY COME DOWN STAIRS NOW!" Ben yelled to them from the kitchen. He didn't sound angry . . . more so urgent.

"I'll be back," Violet told Tate.

. . .

"What?" Violet asked impatiently when she and Lily entered the kitchen. Her parents were standing there, behind the counter, waiting.

"Violet . . . Lily," Ben began. "Together, you're mom—Aunt Vivian and I have come to the decision to leave this house. For good. We're going to move in with Aunt Jill . . . next week. Pack up your room and make sure you're ready."

"_What?"_ the two girls chorused.

"I can't live here anymore," Vivian told them. "Not after everything that happened. I don't feel safe, and it's not good for me or the babies."

_The babies!_ Violet exclaimed in her mind. What the hell were they going to do? Her mother needed an abortion . . .

"Auntie Vivian . . ." Lily said. "I don't think it's a good idea to leave. I mean you guys _just_ moved here a few months ago . . ."

"I know, Lily," Vivian replied. "But this house is just . . . it's too much."

"But—"

"It's not open for discussion, Violet!" Ben interrupted. "Now go back up stairs and start packing!"

Violet turned and stormed out of the room, Lily followed. She could hear Violet grumbling things under her breath like, "what kind of stupid parents jus decide to tell you you're moving in a week . . ."

"What are we gonna do?" Lily asked when they were far enough away from Ben and Vivian.

"Call Billie Dean," Violet said simply. "I'll go get Tate, and then the three of us will go over to Constance's."

. . .

"So . . . Constance tells me you were off at military school," Eddie said from across the table. Eddie was Constance's new "boy toy" to replace the dead one.

Tate gripped his coffee mug a little harder. "Yup, Constance sent me away. I'm only back here now because of what happened to my sister . . . I've been going to Westfield with Lily and Violet."

Eddie nodded.

"How old are you?" Tate asked him. Violet sat next to him and Lily next to her. They were waiting for Constance to get home.

"Uh, twenty-six," Eddie replied.

"You realize my mother's like, sixty, right?"

"I'm aware," Eddie assured him.

"Do you know what she did to my dad?" Tate asked, getting a little angry. He couldn't help himself; this was the _cock_ that his mother spent all her time with. Just like Larry once was. Instead of watching Addie like she should have been doing, she was fucking this man-whore. And now Addie's dead. "She caught him cheating, so she got rid of him. Then she cheated on my step father, and he left. Do you even know how many kids she had?"

"You and Addie," Eddie said.

Tate shook his head. "Wow, she told you _nothing_, huh? Interesting . . ."

"Tate . . ." Violet put her hand on top of his. "It's not his fault."

Tate sighed and nodded. She was right. He needed to contain himself.

Constance entered the room then. "Well, what are you all doing in my kitchen?"

"Funeral arrangements," Eddie explained. He stood up and walked over to her. "The kids said you asked them to come over and help."

"Oh yes," Constance said, going along with it. She realized something was wrong. "Eddie, dear, you'll probably get bored with all this talk of planning. I have a chore list I need you to take care of . . ."

She pulled a piece of paper out of her purse and handed him some more cash.

"Babe, there are like a million stores on this list," Eddie complained.

Constance handed him more money. "There's your down payment. You can come back for the rest later."

She traced the outline of his spine with her finger and pressed her face against his.

"Oh, come on!" Tate exclaimed. "Gross! We're _right here!"_

Constance rolled her eyes. "Oh just shut up. Eddie, go on now."

"Yeah boy, go get Yeller," Lily hissed into Violet's ear. She chuckled.

Eddie left the room and Constance sat down in his seat. "Now, what's the matter?"

"We need to know what date Billie Dean said to have the wedding on," Violet told her. "My parents plan on moving out . . . we need to get this over and done with."

"Well," Constance replied. "I was talking to Billie. It turns out that there are _two_ possible days for you to do the ceremony. The first and last nights of the Ghost Moon."

"Ghost Moon?" Lily asked.

Something the ghost girl didn't know? Violet wondered. Must be good . . .

"Yes," Constance explained. "Once a year, there a new moon comes into cycle for a total of four weeks. It's called the Ghost Moon because it's the power source for all super natural beings. Ghosts are stronger during these four weeks . . . some of them can even walk among the living as if it were Halloween, but only the _very_ powerful ones. The ceremony can only happen on the first and last days of this moon."

"We'll have to do it on the first day," Violet said. "The sooner the better . . . When does the Ghost Moon start?"

Constance was silent for a few moments before replying; "Tonight."

. . .

**Ahhhhh! Okay so next chapter could possibly be the last one :'( But I've had so much fun writing this! I'm so so sorry I haven't updated in so long, but my mom just had a baby so things have been like, super crazy at my house. I'll try to update soon though!**


	12. Graveyards

**Disclaimer – I don't own American Horror Story. **

**ALSO; I have decided to NOT make this the last chapter and possibly continue the story to AFTER the wedding. I've come up with some new ideas that I think will work. **

**. . .**

"_Tonight?"_ Tate repeated. "As in, right now?"

Constance nodded grimly. "I'm afraid so."

"Violet." Tate turned to face her. "Vi, we don't have to do this tonight. We can wait."

"_Four weeks_, Tate?" Violet asked. "There's no way. My parents will be long gone by then . . . it has to be tonight. Constance, how soon can Billie Dean be here?"

"She can be here right now."

Lily, Tate, and Violet did a one-eighty to face the doorway. Standing there, hair perfectly styled, make up perfectly done, eye's wide open and dress without a crease was the infamous Craigslist Medium; Billie Dean.

"You're wouldn't _believe_ the traffic out there," she said, walking over to the table. Her heels clicked against the floor. _Chk, chk, chk . . ._

"We need to do the wedding tonight," Violet told her, grabbing Constance's pack of cigarettes off the table and taking one out. "Tell us what we need to do."

Billie chuckled. "It's quite a list, dear. But there _is_ one thing you won't have to worry about, and that's a priest. Turns out a Medium can do the ceremony . . . And I'd be _glad_ to help."

"Why?" Lily asked her suspiciously.

"Out of the kindness of my heart," Billie replied, placing a hand on her right breast. _If she had a heart, that's where it'd be_, Lily thought.

"No," Lily told her, standing so she wouldn't feel inferior to Billie—who was also still standing. "I know how you are, Billie. Your father was probably a doctor or something . . . pretty well off family situation. You never had to pay for silly things like student loans or rent. You've always had everything in life handed to you. In a way, you're spoiled. You like it when people owe you favors because that's how you keep them in your control. You never to anything out of the 'kindness of your heart', you do things with an ulterior motive in mind. So 'fess up now before it's too late."

Billie's facial expression was one of surprise. Lily's profiling skills didn't fail her this time (not that they ever had). She had nailed Billie Dean right on the head, and they both knew it.

"Fine," Billie admitted. "The network that wanted to do a pilot episode with me bailed. They said I wasn't . . . _exciting _enough as a medium. So, I figure I give them this story and they'll have no choice but to take me back, right?"

"How do you know they'd believe you?" Violet asked.

"Well of course I'd video tape it or something! I'm not dull, girl. Perhaps I'd even invite one of them . . ."

"Guests?" Tate asked. "You want there to be _guests_ at the wedding?"

Billie nearly laughed. "Idiot boy . . . there _have_ to be guests. It's one of the rules. Every ghost in that house must be accounted for, or else it won't work."

"Why do they all have to be there?"

"Because, the spirit of Thaddeus won't leave your body unless all of his victims are present. The psychic force won't be strong enough to fully draw him out, he'd just reenter you. And this time, you'll have Violet as part of you . . . meaning he'd enter her as well," she explained.

"What do you mean _victims?"_ Violet asked. "Thaddeus—Infantata didn't kill all of them."

"Yes but he's the reason for the curse on the house that won't allow them to pass on. They're not victims of murder, but of something much worse; _damnation._ They can't leave because of him. All the anger towards him—even in the smallest degree—will weaken him. That's how spirits work; I can't very well explain it further."

"Wait . . . _every_ single spirit?" Tate asked.

Billie Dean nodded. "All of them. It's the only way it'll work."

Tate looked up at his mother. She shook her head. "Tate, that's a bad idea."

"You heard what she said, we don't have a choice!" Tate shouted. He was suddenly angry, and Lily and Violet were the only ones who didn't know why.

"Tate . . ." Violet put her hand on his shoulder. He was shaking. "Tate, what's wrong?"

"Let's just say you haven't yet met all of the Langdons," he replied, his voice pretty much a growl. Then he was gone. Out of Constance's kitchen, just as easily as he had appeared on her doorstep. Without physical movement.

"Where did he go?" Violet asked.

Lily looked at Billie, who nodded. Lily sighed and shook her head. "I think I know."

"_Where?"_ Violet repeated.

"Come on, Vi," Lily said. She grabbed her cousin's shoulder and pulled her out of her chair. Before leaving the room, Violet lit her cigarette and stuck it in her mouth.

Once they were outside, Lily led Violet down the street. Past the Murder House, past the bus stop . . . They kept going.

"Lily, where are you taking me?"

"Where Tate went."

"Where did Tate go?"

"You'll see . . ."

Lily continued to lead her cousin down the streets. It was hot, California weather out, and Violet couldn't help but wonder how Lily dressed in black _every single day._ She must be roasting . . .

Finally, they arrived at their destination. The graveyard.

"What the _hell_ are we doing here?" Violet asked; a little frightened. Graveyards never creeped her out until very recently when she learned that ghosts were real and they could in fact hurt you.

"This is where Tate went," Lily told her hollowly.

"Why was a graveyard significant to him in life?"

"It wasn't," Lily replied. "That's another thing about ghosts. They can always find their way back to their graves . . . I'm not sure why . . .

Together, the two cousins entered the graveyard. They saw Tate standing over a head stone about twenty yards away.

"You go," Lily told Violet. "I'll wait here."

Violet nodded and walked over to her boyfriend, alone.

_Rest in Peace_

_Tate Langdon_

_1978-1994_

_Brother_

_Son_

_Student_

_Seeing death as the end of life is like seeing the horizon as the end of the ocean_

"David Searls said that," Tate muttered. "I think my mother thought it'd be funny . . ."

"No," Violet told him. "I think she meant it. You might be dead Tate, but your life is far from over."

"It's an eternity . . ." he mumbled. "And you can escape but you're actually _choosing_ to stay. It's insane."

"Why did you come here?" Violet asked him.

"I died in '94 . . ." Tate said, not taking his eyes off his headstone. "It's 2011. I died _seventeen years_ ago."

Violet nodded.

"After we die, there's no more blood pumping through our veins. All the blood is pulled down by gravity because it's just . . . useless. The cells in us die because there's no more oxygen . . . Except the skin cells. Those can still be living for a few days after the body died . . . Dead bodies become stiff, for like a day and half. Our own digestive systems start to devour our inner tissues because there's nothing to control them from stopping. It's very common that bugs will come. Flies maybe . . . they lay maggots in our dead skin, and when the maggots hatch they eat us. After a couple months, any uneaten skin turns black; cold and dead. Once there's not more fluid in the body beetles will eat it because the maggots can't anymore. Moths eat our hair . . . It's funny to think that the bugs we spend our lives squishing beneath our toes are the ones who eat our body's after we've died. It only takes about a year for nothing to be left but teeth and . . . _bones."_

Violet whipped the tears out of her eyes. "Why are you telling me this?"

"Think about it . . . under there all I am is a skeleton. Just bones' Vi . . . nothing more . . . I don't have a face or finger nails or even _hair." _Tate had started to cry to. "Bones freak me out, Violet . . ."

"I think they do that with anyone," Violet told him.

Tate shook his head. It was terrible to think about. He had seen his own reflection in the mirror countless times. He knew what he was _supposed_ to look like . . . so why was it possible that the body that was once his now looked nothing like him? Or did he just look nothing like himself? Should he look decomposed as well?

He hadn't realized it, but as he thought these things he began to change. Violet watched as the skin disappeared off of him and all that was left was bones. Standing right there in front of her . . . bones.

She screamed.

Tate looked down at his hands. They weren't there. At least, those weren't his hands Moira looked different to men . . . was it possible that he was doing the same? Making himself look different?

"Violet . . . what's happening to me?" he asked, scared.

"I—I don't know!" she exclaimed. "Stop it, Tate! Cut it out!"

Tate fell to his knees, and as he did so he reappeared as himself. No more skeletal Tate . . . fully skinned and clothed Tate only. Violet fell next to him and buried her face in his chest. "Don't do that!"

He was still shaky, and he was still upset. But he managed a smile anyway. "Did I scare you?"

Violet hit his chest. "Of course you did, bastard!"

He chuckled a little and pulled himself to his feet. "I have no idea how I did that."

"Don't do it again," Violet commanded.

He nodded and offered her his hand. "Okay . . . Come on; I've got to show you something."

With his free hand, he motioned towards Lily to follow them. He began walking. Lily ran and caught up to them just as he stopped a few rows behind his own grave.

_Rest in Peace_

_Mary Langdon_

_1980-1996_

_Sister_

_Daughter_

_Two paths diverged in a yellow wood and I—I took the one less traveled by, and that has made all the difference._

"Robert Frost," Lily said, reading the quote.

"Who is she?" Violet asked.

Tate sighed. "My sister. My _other_ sister. She's in the house as well."

"What?" Violet asked. "Why haven't I seen her?"

"Because she's . . . _very_ good at hiding." Tate sounded bitter. "She doesn't like to be seen, and sometimes I think it's better that way. She knows too much for her own good . . ."

"What's her handicap?" Lily asked. "Aunt Vivian told me that Constance said all her children were handicapped except you."

"She was a cripple," Tate said. "One of her legs didn't work right. My mother thought she was a mute . . . but it turns out she just didn't like talking that much. She would talk to me . . ."

"Why don't you want her at your wedding, then?" Lily asked.

"It's my fault she's dead," Tate replied simply. "I haven't seen her since she died . . . but it's my fault. I know it."

"What did you do?" Violet asked.

"I let Thaddeus see me with her. They couldn't get Addie . . . she always saw him coming. Besides, Addie was my older sister. They knew it'd hurt a lot worse if they went for the baby . . . so they did," Tate explained. "The details are fuzzy . . . But I think that's how they died. It all makes sense now . . . He was always jealous of my family."

"That's terrible!" Lily exclaimed.

Tate almost laughed, then added in a dark voice, "What worse is that he made _me_ do it."


	13. Nora's Not So Bad

**Disclaimer – I own not American Horror Story . . . yeah.**

. . .

She lay down on her bed sideways, her head hanging over the end. Two years . . . it had been two years since she's seen either of her brothers. They were both so young . . . _too_ young. But she still had Addie . . . Poor Addie, strong Addie.

"Girls it's time for dinner!" Constance screamed up the stairs.

She snorted. She hadn't gone down for a family meal since she was small enough to be carried. Except on Christmas . . . she always came down to eat on Christmas.

But today wasn't anything special. It was just your average Tuesday night, and she really didn't feel like wasting the energy it took to get downstairs.

She flipped over onto her stomach and sat up. Slowly and carefully, she rose to her feet. No bothering to grab her crutches, she limped over to her bedroom doorway and down the hall. She stopped outside of her parents' room. _Dad and Moira . . ._

She kept going until she stood under the attic stairs. _Beau . . ._

Again she kept going and going, until finally she reached the last door in the hall way, the door that hadn't been opened in two years.

Carefully, she reached out her hand and turned the knob. She took a deep breath, and limped into the room.

**1996**

The sheets on the bed and the carpet were still stained with his blood. Constance hadn't had the guts to clean out this room yet, and Mary didn't blame her. It was hard to be in here, especially after what she had seen.

Mary caught sight of something on her brother's bed; a book. It had a bird on the cover.

_Tate loved birds . . ._ she thought. _They were free . . ._

She wiped away the tears that were forming in her eyes before they could fall. Crying wasn't an option. It hadn't been for a while.

"I just want to know why . . ." she murmured to herself. Her voice cracked from lack of use. There were only three people she ever talked to in her life, and two of them were now dead.

"We can still talk, you know?"

Mary gasped as she turned towards the familiar voice. She started to lose her balance but caught herself.

Leaning in the doorway of his old bedroom was her late brother; Tate Langdon.

"N-no . . ." Mary muttered. "You're . . . you're . . ."

"Don't stutter, Mary," Tate told her. "Don't be afraid. It's just me."

"No," Mary told him. "You're dead. And you have been for a while."

"Am I?" Tate asked. "I don't feel very dead . . . in fact, I feel pretty alive at the moment. More alive than I have in a while."

"They ran tests!" Mary blurted. "They know you did drugs before . . . Why would you do that, Tate?"

"He told me to," Tate said. His voice sounded different. More normal than it had when he spoke before. Mary hadn't noticed it at first, but up until now his voice sounded funny. It was _his_ voice but mixed with something . . . else.

Mary gulped. "He?"

Tate didn't say anything.

"_He_ as in the . . ." she swallowed again. "The monster? The monster from the basement?"

"There's no monster in the basement," Tate said. His voice was back to the abnormal way it had started.

Mary understood what was happening. She didn't know why it had taken all these years, but she finally got it. It finally clicked in her brain. "He made you because he's _in you._ Tate that's what happened that day . . . When we were little kids, that's what happened. Addie was screaming because she understood but I was too young . . .—" Her eyes widened. "—He's in you now . . . isn't he?"

"I don't want to do this, Mary," Tate said in his normal voice.

"Do what?" she asked, but her voice flattened when she saw him raise his gun. "T-Tate?"

He was crying, trying to resist. But he couldn't. "I promise it won't hurt for long . . ."

He pulled the trigger, and Mary fell to the ground without as much as a scream. He looked over her body; she was still breathing, still holding on to the last few beats of her heart.

Infantata left him. He was alone in his own mind again.

And he had done something terrible.

He ran over to his sister and bent down next to her. "Mary!"

"W-why?" she choked out, blood pouring from her mouth. And then she was still. Never to breathe another breath of air again.

And it was _his fault._

. . .

"I can't do this," Tate told the girls. "There's no way I can do this."

"Tate, it's simple," Lily told him. "Just go up to her and ask her to come."

Tate glared at her. "'Hey sis, long time no see. I know we haven't spoken much since I _killed you_ but I was just wondering if you wanted to come to my wedding?' . . . Yeah, that'll go well."

They were standing in the attic with Beau. Up to this point, his brother had been silent. But now he spoke. "Mary . . . will forgive . . ."

His speech was broken up and childlike, so it was hard for Tate to snap back, but he did anyway. "Yeah, Beau, I get it! Mary will forgive me, _alright?_"

Beauregard gave Tate a sad look and shook his head before disappearing into the shadows of the attic.

"Way to go," Lily said sarcastically. "Now you've upset him."

"Thanks for the update . . ."

Violet patted his shoulder. "We can do this later."

"No, please . . . do it now."

"When did you get here?" Violet asked Hayden coldly.

"I live here to, you know? You're father's responsible for _that . . ."_ Hayden replied.

"What do you want?" Lily asked.

Hayden walked in a circle around them and stopped in front of Tate. "I've got a bone to pick with you."

"About?" Tate asked, clueless and uncaring.

"Your _wedding_ of course!" Hayden exclaimed. "But I need to talk to you . . . alone."

"Yeah like that's gonna—" Violet was interrupted by Lily's hand.

She grabbed hold of Violet's shoulders and steered her towards the stairs. "Come on Sexy Thing, we can wait down here. Let Tate talk . . ."

When they were gone, Hayden's false smile disappeared. "What the hell do you think you're doing, Tate?"

"I think Violet's making me get married and I'm going along with it because she threatened to kill herself anyway if I don't," Tate told her in a hollow voice.

"Yeah, that much I got," Hayden told him. "I'm talking about your sister. Mary or whatever. You're not _actually_ going to invite her . . . are you?"

"I have to," Tate told her. "All the ghosts in the house have to be there . . . it's the rules."

"Well there's no way she's gonna agree to that . . . you killed her! The gays too . . . what was your plan for getting _them_ there?" Hayden asked.

"Why do you care so much?" Tate snapped.

"Because, you're the baby daddy, right? I need your help . . . I want your child, Tate. I want it so badly . . . So I propose we make a deal. I get Mary and the gay guys to come to your wedding—along with anyone else who you think might give you trouble—and in exchange you give me your kid," Hayden said.

"'S not _my_ anything," Tate promised her. "Vivian doesn't even know it was me. Besides . . . Violet's talking her into an abortion."

Hayden actually laughed. "Abortion? Are you kidding me? Do you think that would actually work?"

"I've got a plan . . . don't worry about it." It was true, Tate _did_ have a plan. It was dark and sinister and he was 100% positive it would be effective. Lily and Violet had already agreed to help; now there was only the small matter of getting Nora's assistance . . . Tate had a feeling she'd agree though. It meant getting what she wanted after all.

"I lost my baby before it was born!" Hayden snapped pushing Tate. He stumbled backwards a little—Hayden was a lot stronger than she looked. "I want a baby, Tate!"

"Do you want _a_ baby or do you want _your_ baby?" Tate growled back at her. "Because there's a difference. If all you want is _a_ baby, then I have no pity for you whatsoever. If you want _your_ baby . . . then I'm sorry but I can't help you there. Shouldn't your baby have come back as a ghost with you anyway?"

Hayden looked at him for a few moments as if she couldn't believe her ears. Then her angry expression flattened. "So you stole my identity?"

Tate nodded. "No one will come looking for you now, right?"

Hayden nodded. "Thanks. But what will happen when you stop going to school?"

"I have Lily fix it on her laptop. She'd make you a guy again, and file a missing person's report. They'll never find you . . . and they won't look here because they already did."

Hayden nodded. "Good boy. The last thing I need is Ben going to prison for murdering me . . ."

Tate was confused. "Wouldn't you _want_ Dr. Harmon to go to prison?"

Hayden shook her head and looked down. "I love Ben. I can't help but love him . . . I don't want to anymore but I still do and it's terrible!"

She was crying.

Tate ran his hands through his hair. Was this what Violet would feel like fifty years from now? When she didn't want to love Tate anymore but couldn't help it because she was dead?

. . .

Lily dragged Violet down into the basement.

"Why couldn't we just wait up there for Tate and Hayden?" Violet asked, obviously annoyed.

Her cousin didn't pay attention to her, but instead walked deeper into the basement. She turned a corner and stopped. Violet followed. She found Lily looked straight into the eyes of Nora Montgomery.

Violet realized that she had never actually met Nora. She held out her hand. "Hello Mrs. Montgomery, I'm Violet Harmon. My parents live here now."

"She's also Tate's fiancée," Lily added, probably to soften Nora up a little.

Nora—who was sitting on an old wooden chair—looked up at them. She stared at Violet's hand for a few minutes before Violet got the hint and dropped it. Nora dabbed at her eyes. "Tate's . . . Tate's getting married?"

Violet nodded. "Yes, ma'am. Down here, later tonight. We were wondering if you'd like to come."

Nora smiled a little. "A wedding! Oh I simply adore weddings . . . they're so happy and lively, I'd be honored to attend. Do you have a dress, child?"

Violet shook her head.

"Well then you'll have to borrow mine. There you go something old _and_ something borrowed . . . now all you'll need is blue and new!" Nora was more excited than she had been in nearly a century. Weddings meant new lives together. As much as she envied happy married couples . . . with children . . . She was happy for Tate and this new Violet girl. The house would finally have a happy atmosphere to feed off of . . . it was just what everyone around here needed.

"Oh I couldn't—" Violet began.

"Well of course you could," Nora told her. "I'm letting you."

"Ma'am," Lily said carefully. "There's something you should know first. The part of Infant—Thaddeus. The part of Thaddeus that lives in Tate will have to leave Tate's body, well—his spirit body anyway. If Tate gets married that is . . ."

Nora thought it over a moment. "Thaddeus . . . my sweet baby boy. He shouldn't be in Tate; he should be in his own body. Yes . . . that's it. Thaddeus needs to leave Tate; it's the only way this will work."

"Can you do us a favor then?" Violet asked.

"Anything dear!" Nora exclaimed, jumping to her feet. She grabbed Violet's hand and stared at her with her big blue eyes. She was happy . . . something Nora Montgomery clearly hadn't been in a while.

"Could you invite the other spirits, please?" Violet asked. "We need them all to be present . . . it's part of the ceremony. Only, we don't really have enough time to speak with all of them so . . ."

"Oh yes, yes," Nora muttered, pushing past Violet and Lily. "Guests, of course guests. You can't have a wedding without guests. And decor . . . Yes show is _everything_. Maybe those nice young fellows who lived here before you would like to help. I know they've got a sore spot for Tate but they love to decorate . . . yes I'll ask them. And that Moira lady, she knows what she's doing . . . yes, yes that's good. That will work . . . Oh, a wedding!"

Nora scurried off, mumbling to herself about wedding plans.

"I think you just hired yourself a wedding planner," Lily said to her cousin.

Violet nodded. "Nora's not so bad . . ."

. . .

"Come on, Tate," Violet said. "We have to do this."

"We don't _have_ to!" Tate exclaimed. "You said Nora was handling guests!"

"Tate, that's not why you need to do this; you need to do this because you need closure. And closure is what you shall get," Violet told him. She pushed him into her bedroom and shut the door behind them. Lily was standing guard in the hallway.

"Hurry it up my sweets . . . I don't feel like standing out here all day!" Lily barked.

Tate took a deep breath. "Okay . . . I think I'm ready."

Violet laughed and grabbed his hand. "No you're not. Now where is she?"

Instead of answer, Tate began to walk, still holding tightly to Violet's hand. He approached her closet door, and opened it all the way.

Standing there was a girl, about their age with black hair like Addie's that was somewhere between wavy and curly like Tate's. Another thing she shared with Tate was her eyes. They too were a deep brown. She held herself funny, as if it pained her. She slouched onto her right side. Tate mentioned something about one of her legs . . .

"Mary," Tate breathed out.

Mary didn't say anything. She only looked at Violet.

"She doesn't like to talk in front of people," Tate managed. His hand was clammy and he was shaking a little. "That's why everyone thought she was mute. Only her siblings have ever heard her voice."

"Well," Violet said, holding out her hand. "I'm going to be her sibling by the end of the night, correct?"

Mary looked at her funny.

"I'm Violet," she introduced herself. "Tate's fiancée. We're getting married tonight, and would be honored if you'd like to come."

Instead of answering she looked at Tate. "You're wrong. I talk to ghosts too. The only people I don't talk to now are the living ones."

Her voice cracked a little, like she hadn't spoken in a while. Which she probably hadn't . . .

"You never came to talk to me," Tate said.

"You never wanted me to," Mary countered. "I would have known. I know everything that goes on around here."

Before Violet could ask, Tate explained, "She likes to hide in the closets of the house. She sees everything but no one ever sees her. She's been doing this since we were kids."

That would work . . . The closets in the house—well most of them anyway—were the kind that had the door made up of blinds. Easy to see through from the inside . . .

"I watched my mother _murder_ my own father . . . and the maid, from the closet in there room. And I watched Larry take Beau's life from the shadows of the attic. I watched my own brother get taken down by the S.W.A.T. team from where I'm standing right now . . . And I watched Addie get hit by a car from the window. My entire family has died right in front of me except for my mother . . . all I can wonder is where I'll be when that happens."

That was one of the longest phrases Tate had ever heard his sister say.

"I'm sorry," was all that came out of his mouth.

Mary nodded. "I know. And I forgive you. Like I said, I know everything that goes on around here."

Lily entered the room then. "Ben and Aunt Vivian just left; I figured I didn't need to guard the door anymore."

Mary looked at her. "You see the dead. That's just like being dead."

"I guess—"

"Two roads, Lily . . . I think you know what I mean."

Lily took a deep breath. "Yeah, I know."

"And you've chosen?"

Lily nodded. "Yeah, I have. I'm going to take the one less traveled by."

Mary chuckled and took a few steps forward, out of the closet. "You're not very bright."


	14. Prep Team

**Disclaimer – I don't own American Horror Story, duh.**

**Okay, so considering that the new Season of AHS isn't going to have Tate or Violet in it I assume that this fanfic is even more pointless than before. Oh well whatever.**

**I'm actually kind of happy they won't be in it though, because I love Tate but he was seriously starting to scare the shit out of me.**

. . .

"Are the chairs set up in the basement?" Chad asked. He and Patrick were in the upstairs bathroom, trying to find Vivian's nail polish remover. There was no way in hell they were about to let that "trashy ghost-lover" walk down the aisle with purple-peeling nails.

"Yeah," Patrick replied. "But some of them are really dirty and not so white anymore."

"Whatever, we'll just have that slutty maid bleach them," Chad said, stepping down off the toilet with the remover in his hands. He closed the cabinet.

"I can't believe it," Hayden said, appearing in the doorway. "You faggots are actually_ helping_ them?"

"Shut up trailer park bitch," Patrick snapped. "And 'faggot' is not the politically correct term for—"

"Shut up," Hayden interrupted. "Back to my original question; why the hell are you _helping_ them? He's the one who killed you!"

Chad sighed. "We know. But Nora explained everything about the little psychopath being possessed and well . . . we couldn't turn down a thing like this. Everyone loves a wedding."

"I never got to get married," Hayden commented. "And considering the amount of available guys around here is limited I doubt I ever will . . ."

"What about that nice Boy Dahlia in the basement?" Patrick suggested sarcastically. "Oh wait, he's in love with Tasha Parsons next door."

"Argh!" Hayden knocked the soup off the sink with her fists. "If you know what's good for you you'll SHUT UP!"

"What about Hugo?" Chad asked. "Is he going to be your date to the blessed event?"

Hayden was about to snap back when she remembered something. "Hold the Goddamn phone just a moment . . . Hugo and Constance were married, right? Until she killed him."

"Yeah, so?"

"Tate's dad 'ran away' when he was six . . . Hugo's Tate's father, isn't he?" Hayden asked.

"No shit, Sherlock," Lily snapped. She was passing by in the hall when she saw the group of spirits gathered in the bathroom. "Of course Hugo's Tate's father."

"Well does Tate know that his dad's here?"

"I would like to assume so . . ."

Hayden actually laughed out loud. "Oh this is too good! A Langdon family reunion, and at Tate's wedding no doubt! This is so perfect . . ."

Hayden then walked out of the room, still laughing.

"What's that about?" Lily asked.

Chad and Patrick looked at each other, then back at Lily. "Let's just say that Hugo and Tate meeting wouldn't be the best idea."

"Why?"

"Because, idiot, Hugo cheated on Constance, causing Constance to kill him. That led to her abusive relationship to her children. Had Hugo remained faithful, Beau, Addie, Mary, and even Tate would probably all still be alive. Constance is the real reason they're all dead, although the house helped a little. She needs to pay for what she's done . . . But that's not the point, the point it that Tate's mad at his father and Hugo doesn't even know who Tate is. What he looks like or anything. I can promise you this, there will be a conflict, and Hayden will want a front row seat."

Lily looked at Chad's expression. He had a plan, she could tell. "So what are we going to do?"

"_Nothing,"_ Chad told her, but he was lying. Whatever he planned on doing, he wasn't about to tell someone about it.

. . .

Tate couldn't take his eyes off Mary. He had _killed_ her, and she was acting like it had never happened. Like this was just like old times, when she and Tate would sit up in the attic with Beau and Addie for hours making plans to run away. Or to kill Larry . . . it depended on the mood they were in.

"Do I have a second head?" she snapped.

His eyes shot to the floor. "Sorry . . . it's just . . . not what I pictured."

"What did you picture, then?" Mary asked as she limped around the bedroom; pacing. They were waiting for Violet to return with Billie Dean.

"That when you died you'd pass on. You'd be able to fly away, you'd have a voice and both your legs would work," Tate admitted. "But then again, I think I pictured something like that for all of my siblings."

Mary smiled. "I know what you mean. I did too . . . Constance always thought you as her 'perfect son' . . . but she didn't know what was living inside of you."

Tate snorted. "Even if she did . . . it wasn't what was on the inside that counted, it was what was on the outside. Everything must be physically perfect."

"I always thought that when you died, you'd be freed from the monsters . . . I guess not though, huh?" Mary said. "Well . . . not yet anyway. After today you'll be free."

Tate nodded. "I hate Violet for doing this to me."

"It's because she loves you," Mary replied. "Love makes people do stupid things. Take Lily for example."

"What's Lily got to do with anything?" Tate asked.

Before Mary could answer though, Vivian opened the door. "Oh, hi Tate. I thought I heard someone up here."

"Hello Mrs. Harmon. We're just waiting for Lily and Violet . . ." Tate explained.

Vivian nodded. "I figured. Who's this?"

She was looking at Mary.

"That's my sister Mary, Mrs. Harmon," Tate told her. "She's mute."

"Oh . . ." Vivian held her hand out. "Well it's very nice to meet you, Mary."

Mary smiled and limped forward a few steps to shake Vivian's hand.

"Oh, sweetheart is your leg okay? You're walking funny . . ." Vivian had that _concerned mother_ tone of voice.

"She's crippled," Tate explained. "She always has been."

"Oh my God I'm so sorry!" Vivian exclaimed, feeling totally insensitive.

Mary held up her hand and shook her head. _It's okay._

Mary was such a good actress. She could make it seem like she wasn't talking because she really _was_ a mute, and that she was just a happy person all around. But Tate knew the truth; Mary didn't talk to the living because she didn't trust the living. Inside, she was scared and crying and probably even more of an emotional mess than he was. There was no way you could watch everyone in your family die without them knowing and be okay on the inside. It just wasn't possible.

"Well . . ." Vivian felt awkward. "I just came up to check on Violet, but I guess she's not here . . . Are you two staying for dinner."

Tate shook his head. "No, but thanks for asking. We've got . . . family plans."

Vivian nodded and gave them a big smile before leaving the room.

Tate dropped his head into his hands. "She just invited me over for dinner and later tonight she's going to find out that I murdered her daughter."

"No, she's not," Mary promised him. "Lily has a plan . . ."

"What do you mean, Lily has a plan?" Tate asked, looking her right in the eye.

Mary's gaze shot downward. "I can't tell you. I'm not even supposed to know . . . I overheard Lily discussing it with Constance yesterday. They didn't know I was there. Well, Lily did . . . but Lily always knows when someone's around."

The door creaked open and Violet and Lily entered with Billie in tow. Violet was holding one of those bags that dry cleaners put nice clothes in.

"What's that?" Tate asked, nodding his head towards it.

"Dress," Violet replied. "Travis's got your tux downstairs."

"So who else is in the wedding party?" Billie asked. "We've got to do this right you know? Best man, maid of honor, ring bearer, flower girls . . . Violet, who's going to give you away?"

"Give me away?" Violet asked, confused.

Billie Dean rolled her eyes. "There's no way one person could be this daft. _Yes_, giving you away. As in what member or your family will be handing you over to Tate at the alter?"

Tate shook his head. "I still vote this is insane! I'm 17 I don't want to be married yet!"

"Shut up!" everyone snapped.

"I'll give Violet away," Lily offered.

"Then who's going to be my maid of honor?" Violet asked.

"Mary can do it," Billie suggested. "Isn't that right Mary?"

Mary didn't speak; instead she just glared at Billie.

_I don't get it, Mary . . . you talk to Lily,_ Billie Dean said in Mary's head.

_Lily's closer to being a ghost than you'll ever be. You might be able to see us . . . but you'll never, _ever_ be one of us._

"Okay so who's going to be the best man, ring bearer, flower girls?" Violet asked, breaking the awkward silence that had formed during Billie and Mary's mental conversation.

"Uh . . . Beau can be my best man," Tate said. "And Troy and Bryan could carry the rings. I'll bet Loraine would let Margret and Angela be flower girls."

Violet nodded. "Alright . . . we've got our wedding party."

"I'll get Constance to handle the outfits," Billie agreed. "Now, we have to do the ceremony at midnight, I've already told Nora to tell the others that. Also, don't be late."

"Yeah, I'd hate for my last humanly action to be being late for my own wedding," Violet agreed.

Chad and Patrick walked into the room. Billie Dean made a disgusted noise.

_Homophobe!_ Mary shouted at her telepathically.

"Hello, Mary," Chad greeted.

Mary smiled at him and Patrick but still didn't say anything. She wasn't about to give Billie the satisfaction.

"What's up?" Lily asked them.

"Moira bleached the chairs downstairs and Maria and Gladys are working on fixing up those terrible floors . . . pretty soon it will look perfect for a wedding. Just thought we should let you know," Patrick told them.

"Oh and we spoke to Elizabeth and Hayden," Chad added. "They're going to make sure Violet looks beautiful."

"Has everyone agreed to come?" Billie asked them.

They nodded. Chad told her, "Nora convinced them by mentioning this was also the ceremony to rid the world of _part _of the demon baby that cursed the house, resulting in them being stuck here forever."

"Called it," Billie muttered.

. . .

Three hours later it was nearly nine thirty, and the time of Violet's mortality was running short.

"I want to go outside, one last time," she told Tate. Her stomach felt like someone was hacking away at it with an axe (kind of like Tate did to that Bianca girl), but she ignored it.

"I'll go with you," Lily offered.

From the other side of the room, Mary laughed softly to herself.

"Hurry up, though," Moira told them. She was 'cleaning' in the room, listening to what they were saying. What else was new? "Elizabeth and Hayden will be up soon."

Violet nodded. She and Lily walked out of the room and down the stairs. The time to spend outside the front gates of the property was almost out.

A few moments later, there was a small knock on the door frame. Travis was standing there. Mary motioned for him to enter.

"I brought the clothes," he said. He handed Tate a bag. "This is yours."

"Thanks," Tate said, trying not to sound angry. This was the guy his mother had . . . never mind.

Travis handed Lily a bag next. "And for you."

"Thanks," she replied, taking the bag in her hands. "Can I see the kids'?"

Travis nodded and unzipped two of the bags. One was a suit for a 10-13 year old boy (judging by size) and the other was a dress for an 8-10 year old girl. "They siblings match so . . ."

The ties on Troy and Bryan's outfits were the same color as the sashes on Margret and Angela's.

"That's so cute," Mary said. "I love kids."

"You would have made a good mother," Tate agreed. "If I hadn't . . . you know."

Mary rolled her eyes. "Please, don't make yourself feel bad. I'd never have gotten married anyway . . ."

"Well why not?" Travis asked. "If you don't mind me asking."

Mary chuckled. "Because . . . Who could love a cripple?"

"Anyone with a brain," Travis told her.

She smiled. "Thanks . . . you'd better get these dresses and suits to their people though."

"Okay . . . this is Lily's; give it to her, yeah?"

Mary nodded and Travis left the room to finish handing out outfits.

Tate unzipped his bag and looked at his tux. "Oh shit . . ."

"What?" Moira asked, climbing down from her step stool and walking over to see.

"I have no idea how to put this on!"

. . .

"We should go back inside," Lily told her cousin. She tore her eyes away from the moon and looked down at her watch. 9:45pm . . . not a lot of time. She looked up at the moon again. Lily always loved the moon . . . And now that it was the most powerful super natural moon of the year, she felt an even deeper connection. This moon was like she was; it wasn't a spirit but it was part of their world. Never truly belonging anywhere. She wasn't a ghost but she was hardly a human . . . And they wondered why she wanted to kill herself. It was the only way she'd ever fully belong in one place.

She and Violet silently made their way back into the house and up to Violet's room.

Mary was there, wearing a blood red dress that reached the floor.

"_This_ is what Constance brought you?" Violet asked her.

"She deemed it appropriate," Mary said, looking down. "For once I agree."

Moira was there too, in her normal maid's outfit. Her hands where busy at Tate's neck; tying his bow tie.

"A bow tie?" Lily asked, almost laughing.

"Shut up," Tate snapped. "I'm not really in the mood."

His tie was the same shade as Mary's dress, and his coat was pitch black. The only brightness about him was his white button down shirt.

"Well, if it counts . . . you look very handsome," Violet told him.

Elizabeth and Hayden appeared in the doorway.

"Boy, out," Elizabeth commanded. "We've got to get Violet ready for her wedding."

"So?"

"So it's bad luck for you to see her in her dress before the wedding, dumbo," Hayden said.

Tate rolled his eyes. "That's stupid."

But he didn't protest. He did as Elizabeth and Hayden said and he left the room.

"I should go get ready as well," Moira said, following him out and shutting the door behind her.

"First thing's first, girly," Hayden said. She threw Violet's dress to her. "Put that on."

Violet nodded and stepped into her closet. She wasn't about to let everyone watch her change.

"Here's your dress, Lily," Mary said, handing over the bag Travis had left.

When Lily stepped closed to take it, Mary hissed in her ear, "Have you changed your mind?"

"No," Lily replied.

"There are other ways, Lily if you'd just—"

"Not for me," Lily interrupted. She walked out of the room then, with her dress. Probably to change in the bathroom.

"You, here, now!" Hayden said to Mary. She was holding a chair out in front of Violet's small vanity.

Mary limped over and sat down. Elizabeth went to work on her make up while Hayden played with her hair. Ten minutes later she was camera ready. And just in time for Violet to step out of the closet, wearing a simple yet elegant white dress. It had flower patterns cut into the fabric that fell straight down. It wasn't too big or fancy and it didn't make her stick out. It was the perfect wedding dress for Violet Harmon.

"You almost look beautiful," Hayden said, sounding sincere. "But you'll have to get your ass over here and let us finish you before you qualify."


	15. Wedding Part 1

**Disclaimer – I don't own American Horror Story**

. . .

As it turns out, Gladys used to play the piano when she was alive. Nora had commanded Charles to dig around and find their old organ. The music began to play softly and Mary and Beau walked in between the aisles of chairs assembled by Chad and Patrick. They broke apart to stand on separate sides when they reached the podium Billy Dean had set up as the alter.

Next went Troy and Bryan, each having one hand on a little box that contained what must be the wedding rings. Violet almost laughed; she had never even seen her own wedding ring. She wondered what kind of cake Billy Dean had picked out.

Behind Troy and Bryan went Margret and Angela. The two girls dropped black rose petals at their feet as they walked.

The music changed. In her head, Violet sang the familiar words, _here comes the bride . . ._ But the organ gave it a more sinister sounding tone. How very appropriate.

Lily quickly pulled Violet's veil over her head—something she had forgotten to do herself—before they came into view of the others from the dark shadows of the basement.

In the dim light, Violet already looked like a ghost. All eyes were trained on her, and she couldn't help but notice in her mind that Constance was the only living human there. She was sitting directly behind Hugo . . . uh oh.

Lily breathed out a shaky laugh. She whispered in Violet's ear. "Look at your future husband."

Violet tore her eyes away from Constance and looked at Tate. He was standing in front of Billie's podium. His cheeks had turned a somewhat greenish complexion and the rest of his face was white as a sheet. He looked like he was going to pass out. A few steps later she was standing next to him, positive she was in equally bad physical condition.

"Who gives this girl away?" Billie asked.

"Me," Lily said. "I . . . do that."

Billie glared at her. It took a few seconds for her to understand.

"Oh right!" Lily cried. She pulled Violet's veil back and placed her hand in Tate's. "There we go."

Lily gave them one final thumbs up before going to stand next to Mary, Margret, and Angela.

Billie gave the audience one of her TV-ready smiles—Violet remembered her mentioning something about a camera—before she began to recite; "We are gathered here today to bond in holy matrimony Tate Langdon and Violet Harmon."

She took the wine glass that was resting on the counter and handed it to Tate. He took a deep breath and put it to his lips. It tasted good, but his throat was too dry to enjoy it. He handed the glass to Violet. She experienced a similar sensation.

Billie took the box from Troy and Bryan and handed one ring to Violet and one to Tate. Violet didn't bother looking at it.

"Repeat after me," Billie instructed. "'I Tate, take thee Violet as my lawfully wedded wife.'"

Tate's voice quivered slightly as he spoke. "'I Tate, take thee Violet as my lawfully wedded wife."

"'To have and to hold . . .'"

"To have and to hold," Tate repeated.

"'From this day forth, for better or for worse . . .'"

"From this day forth, for better or for worse," Tate said. His voice was a little more under control now.

"'For richer or for poorer, in sickness and in health, till death do us start."

Troy and Bryan snickered at the adlib.

"For richer or for poorer, in sickness and in health, till death do us start." Tate took a deep breath and said the rest on his own. He slipped the ring on Violet's finger. "According to God's holy ordinance; and thereto I plight thee my troth. With this ring I thee wed, with my body I thee worship, and with all my worldly goods I thee endow; In the name of the Father, the Son and the Holy Spirit. Amen."

"What am I here for?" Billie muttered under her breath.

"I, Violet," she began without Billie's okay, "Take thee Tate as my lawfully wedded husband. To have and to hold, from this day forth, for better or for worse, for richer or poorer, in sickness and in health, till death do us start. According to God's holy ordinance; and thereto I plight thee my troth. With this ring I thee wed, with my body I thee worship, and with all my worldly good I thee endow; In the name of the Father, the Son and the Holy Spirit. Amen."

She put Tate's ring on his finger.

"Now," Billie Dean said. "With the knife of remembrance, you shall stab the heart of the living spouse, so that the two may forever be together, un-ageing, and in love."

That part was new . . . But Violet knew what was coming. From the folds in Billie Dean's dress, she pulled out a very old fashioned looking knife and handed it to Tate. "Go on now."

Violet took a deep breath and whispered to him, "Come on, Tate. You can do it."

His breath became nervous and quick. He didn't know what to do . . . He knew he had to kill Violet, but he also knew that killing her would be totally impossible for him. He stared down at the ancient looking dagger.

_Infantata,_ he thought. _Now would be a really great time to possess me. _

But of course nothing happened. And even Thaddeus_ did_ possess him when he killed Violet, it wouldn't count because it wasn't Tate killing her of his own free will.

A few minutes passed, and still nothing happened.

Mary nudged Lily's foot with her own. _Get going_ she meant.

"Tate!" Lily spoke up. "If you don't kill Violet now, she's going to move away and you'll _never_ see her again."

She was trying to make him angry. Despite the fact that he only killed all those people because he had been possessed, Tate was still crazy. Lily knew it was true . . . It was impossible to have a demon baby's spirit living inside of you without picking up on a little of the crazy yourself. She just had to hit the right spot with her verbal hammer. "She'll _leave_ Tate, and so will I. Then you'll be stuck here _forever alone._ Think about that Tate, never being able to see Violet again! But you can fix that, you can make her stay. She'll be with you forever, Tate."

He almost laughed. "That's the problem . . . I don't want her to be with me. I want her to live and to be happy!"

Violet saw Moira dab at her eyes with a tissue from the front row of chairs. The guests were enjoying this.

Lily needed a new approach. When nothing came to mind she went straight to her last resort.

"I'm sorry Violet," she whispered. She scanned the guests for a weak ghost, one that would be easy to possess. Her gaze landed on Dallas. That idiot would be so easy to control it was almost comical.

Lily focused. She wasn't positive this would work, but she really, really hopped so. With her mind, she willed Dallas to stand and walk over to the podium. He was a puppet and she was the master. She made him grab the glass of wine, then reach into Billie Dean's pocket and pull out the poison that Lily new was hidden in there—Billie's _just in case_ back up for muggers. Harsh but effective . . . it won't kill you, but it'll make you feel like you're dying if you breath it in. Lily commanded Dallas to pour the entire bottle into the wine glass, then hold it to Violet's throat.

"NO!" Tate screamed. He attempted to attack, but Hayden, Fiona, and Travis grabbed him and held him back. "Violet!"

Dallas—at Lily's command—grabbed Violet by the neck and tilted her back. He plugged her nose and poured the poisoned wine into her mouth. She had no choice but to swallow.

Lily released her puppet. He left loose of Violet, confused. Violet fell to the ground.


	16. Wedding Part 2

**Disclaimer – I don't own American Horror Story. And I also think disclaimers are stupid as fuck.**

. . .

The second Violet hit the ground Tate was released from Hayden, Fiona, and Travis's grip. "Violet!"

He ran over to her and knelt down. She was jerking around, visibly in pain. Tears poured down Lily's cheeks. Violet thought she was dying, but Lily knew better. It was some weirdo lab experiment that Billie had stolen or bought off some guy in an alley's cousin. Whatever it was, it was a drug and it was illegal, and Lily had just given her best friend a shit load of it.

Tate was crying too. "Violet! No, Violet, no!"

Billie Dean locked eyes with Lily. They were the only two that knew it was a fake, and they silently promised to keep it that way.

Violet moaned. "Make it stop, make it stop!"

Tate grabbed Violet's hand and held it to her mouth. "Don't die, Violet, please don't die . . ."

"Tate, I can't—" She couldn't finish her sentence it hurt too much to talk.

Lily swallowed the lump in her throat. "Tate you can make it quicker for her . . . use the knife."

Violet in pain . . . That's what would unlock Tate's crazy, and Lily knew it. She was taking risks, but wasn't that what life was about?

"Please, Tate," Violet said. "Please make the pain go away I don't like it."

"I—I can't Violet I can't kill you . . . maybe we can make it better." He was trying to convince himself more than her. "We can get you to a hospital or something . . . we can get you help, Violet you don't have to die."

Maybe Violet caught on, or maybe she really was in such an intense amount of pain that it caused her to do what she did. She screamed, loudly. And it wasn't just a _scared out of your mind_ scream but it was a genuine scream of being in pain. That's what did it. That's what made Tate snap.

He reached for the knife and held it tightly. Lily barely had time to suck in a breath before he raised his arm and plunged the dagger into Violet's chest; screaming the entire time.

"Stop it!" he yelled. He pulled the knife out and stabbed her again. And again. And again. Over and over and over he brought the knife down on her. Long after she had stopped breathing.

"Tate—"

"I need to fix it!" Tate screamed in Lily's face. He dropped the knife and hid his face in his folded arms that were resting on his knees. Fetal position . . . "I need to make it stop . . ."

"You made it stop, Tate!" Violet told him. She bent down and wrapped her arms around his shoulders. "You did it . . . it doesn't hurt anymore."

Slowly, he raised his head. "I did?"

Violet nodded, and then smashed her lips into his. "You did it, Tate . . . you saved us both."

He looked over at her body. It was still bleeding, blood drenching the white fabric of her dress. "But look what I did to you."

"I can't feel it anymore, Tate," Violet promised him.

"I killed you."

"But I asked you to," she said. "So it's okay."

He shook his head. "Nothing about this is okay."

"We need to hurry and finish the ceremony!" Billie Dean exclaimed. "You can cry over your sins later, boy!"

Violet grabbed Tate's hand and together they rose to their feet. The front of Ghost Violet's dress was soaked in deep red, just like her body. But she could change later.

"Now, by the power vested in me by the Medium Society of California, I know pronounce the two of you husband and wife, you may now kiss the bride," Billie said. "And quickly before the hour's up!"

Tate and Violet smashed their lips together, and waited a few moments before breaking apart. All the ghosts clapped for a moment, but stopped when they saw it.

Tate was glowing. _Literally_ glowing. A sickly greenish color. Violet jumped back from him, startled. He continued glowing bright and brighter until finally, the glow separated from his body and shot into the air.

Violet, Lily, and Mary ran over to Tate and grabbed his arms before he could fall on the ground. They helped him pull himself up.

All eyes were trained on the glowing green orb that was floating near the ceiling. There was the sound of a baby crying, followed by that of screams of terror. Then, the ball split in two; one half glowing bright yellow the other the same ugly green. The yellow ball flew towards the ghosts and landed right on Nora's lap. It exploded with a loud_ pop_ and was replaced by a smiling, blond-haired baby. Thaddeus had returned home at last. The other ball exploded at the same time, releasing a demonic creature that had once been a baby. Infantata. The two sides of Thaddeus Montgomery had been separated, and the evil side—Infantata—disappeared with a big _bang._

Silence.

Then, cheers. Everyone in the basement was on their feet, clapping and shouting and laughing.

Tate put his arms around Violet and nuzzled her neck. "Mrs. Langdon, huh?"

"Don't go there yet," she told him sternly.

He took a step back and raised his hands in surrender. "Okay . . . okay . . ."

For a moment, everyone was happy. Then, Constance yelled over the celebration, "Well wait just one second. What are we going to do with the girls' body?"


	17. Lily's Choice

**Disclaimer – I don't own American Horror Story**

. . .

Everyone was silent. Had it been possible that everyone was too preoccupied with readying for the wedding that no one thought of a plan for Violet's body? Would they tell her parents she was gone? Would they let them find her? Would they keep it a secret? What would happen when they moved? What about the baby?

_Too many questions_ . . .

"Are you still going with that crazy plan?" Mary whispered in Lily's ear. Lily nodded.

She walked over to Violet's body and picked up the dagger. Her hands were sweating and it was hard to grip the handle. "I—I've got an idea."

"This should be good," Chad muttered to Patrick.

"Lil's?" Violet asked, sounding a little scared. "What do you mean?"

"I—I've thought it all out," Lily explained. "A p-plan. Moira w-will find us-s."

"_Us?"_ Tate repeated. "What do you mean?"

"M-murder suicide," Lily choked out. "M-make it look like murder s-suicide."

Chad and Patrick shuffled around uncomfortably and glared at Tate.

"The th-three of us-s," Lily continued, her voice quavering. "S-so T-Tate won't be a s-suspect. B-because Uncle B-Ben would l-love to pin it on him."

She smiled a little. "I know how to make it look . . . r-real."

"One problem," Constance pointed out. "Tate doesn't have a body Einstein!"

"That's where you c-come in, Constance," Lily said. "You have to ask to bring Tate's body to your house, make it look like you're going to care for funeral arrangements or whatever. Remember, Tate stole Hayden's identity. He'll be reported dead under her name. I'll fix everything on my computer before her family finds out . . . I'll handle everything."

"But why do you have to die?" Violet asked, tears forming in her eyes. "Don't do this Lily . . ."

"I-I . . . I don't belong in the human world and I don't belong in the spirit world either. I'm in between . . . this is the only way to get me on one side of the tracks instead of right in the way of the train," Lily said. "Tate you're going to have to play dead for a little while, but we need it to look like you've been dead almost as much as Violet. Chad and Patrick . . . you guys are going to have to clean up and _fast._ Moira will scream, Ben and Vivian will run down . . . and I think you guys understand from that point.

"We're dressed for a wedding," Violet pointed out. "This is crazy what are they going to think?"

Lily reached her hand down the front of her dress and pull out a folded piece of paper. "I'm going to leave this . . . a suicide note. I've written them before, it's not that hard."

Violet's hands were frozen at her sides. Tate reached out his shaking fingers and took the paper from her. He read aloud; "'Dear Auntie Vivian and Uncle Ben, None of this is your fault, I couldn't help it. You were going to make us move. I didn't want to move. I made Violet and Tate dress for a wedding and then I murdered them. This is my confession, it's all my fault. By the time you read this I'll have killed myself. I'm tired of these feelings. Violet and Tate will be my only victims . . . You miss judged me Uncle Ben, I'm not schizophrenic I'm psychotic. In eternal rest, Lily' . . . Lily this is insane!"

"Don' call me crazy Tate, don't you _dare_ call me crazy!" Lily snapped. "I know what I have to do . . . and I'm going to do it. Now come here so I can kill you."

"You do realize that that was the _weirdest_ thing anyone has ever said to me, right?"

"Stop stalling!" Lily commanded. Go lay next to Violet . . . and I'm sorry if this is going to hurt."

"Wait!" Violet cried. "Lily let me do it . . . he had to kill me I should have to kill him."

"Violet!" Tate cried exasperated. "_That _is crazy!"

"I want to know what you went through," Violet said. "I'm curious, that's all."

"Curiosity killed the cat, my dear," Chad told her.

"Not if the cat was already dead . . ." Violet replied. "Please, Tate . . ."

"It won't be the same anyway," Tate told her. "I'm already dead you won't _watch_ me die so it's not even worth it."

"Violet, come on I'll do it," Lily said. "I won't put you through that."

"But I _want _to kill him!" Violet exclaimed. "Okay that sounded bad . . ."

"Oh this is ridiculous!" Tate cried. He grabbed the knife from Violet and stabbed it through his own chest. His breath caught in his throat and he doubled over backwards. When it stopped hurting, he did it again. Over and over and over. He needed to make himself look as mangled as Violet's body did.

Violet might have screamed. She wasn't actually sure . . . it was too horrific a sight to think of what she was or wasn't doing. She was watching her _husband_—that felt funny to think—stab himself repeatedly in the chest.

"This is the best wedding I've ever been to, let me just say," Troy told them all.

"Anyone have popcorn?" Bryan asked. Mary hit them both upside the head.

Lily took a deep breath. "My turn. See you all in a couple of minutes."

She pulled the knife out of Tate and whipped his blood off of it on her dress. "I don't need A.I.D.S . . ."

"You're gonna die anyway," Tate pointed out.

She kicked his stomach softly. "Play dead."

Dramatically, he fell backwards and stuck out his tongue. Lily rolled her eyes.

"Wait!" Violet exclaimed. "Lily . . . you can't do this! I'm supposed to make sure you don't kill yourself that's why we share a room!"

"Well, you're dead now," Lily pointed out. "So you're not responsible for me."

And with that, she stabbed the knife through her chest.

Time slowed down. Everyone stopped moving and just watched as the girl who saw more than she was supposed to see sunk to her knees, a dagger sticking out of her chest. She coughed and blood spattered everywhere.

"Lily . . ." Violet sighed. "What are you doing . . . You could have lived . . ."

"Dying shouldn't feel this good," Lily managed to say before tipping over onto the ground, head first.

"This is like Romeo and Juliet but backwards . . ." Nora said. "It's all so romantic . . ."

She dabbed her eyes and pulled Thaddeus closer to her. Violet had almost forgotten that all the other ghosts in the house were still there.

But where was Lily? Could it be possible that Lily's spirit wouldn't appear in the house? What if Lily didn't have a soul, and that's why she could see the lost ones?

"Get moving!" Billie snapped at the ghosts. "This place needs to be left exactly how it was this morning, plus the three dead bodies . . . Violet put Lily's letter next to her so they find it."

Violet did as instructed as all the other ghosts picked up their chairs, folded them, and walked out to put them back in the crawl space where they had been hidden. Mary and Beau worked together to pull down any decorations Chad and Patrick had set up, and Troy and Bryan helped Constance and Billie bring the stupid podium thing up the stairs.

"Lily . . ." Violet muttered. "Where are you . . .?"

She looked down at her cousin's body. If she was looking at it five months ago, she would have screamed and cried. But now she knew . . . death wasn't sad. In fact, it was . . . happy. Even the ghosts like Moira who didn't want to be eternally damned here were lucky. They didn't have to deal with all the piss and the shit and the vomit that ran in the streets. Violet smiled. Tate had said that before . . . maybe in a dream. It was hard to tell.

Lily's empty eyes stared back up at her. This was the girl who had walked through her bedroom door just a month ago, wearing black leather boots and too much black make up. The girl who scared kids into wetting their pants on the school bus and the girl who had become her best friend. She looked at Tate, who looked back, annoyed. Probably wondering how long he'd have to stay lying down and pretending to be dead. He had been the boy who seventeen years ago was on the track team. The boy who had lost his way because of his mother and the boy who she had fallen in love with.

Now Violet looked at her own body. She had been the girl with the smoking problem. The girl who resented her parents and swore too much. The girl who had cut her own wrists with her father's razor to get back at him . . . The girl who married a ghost.

"I don't feel any different," Lily whispered in her cousin's ear. "Should I feel different?"

Violet turned around to look at the ghost of her friend. "No . . . being dead feels the same as being alive. Just . . . longer."

Lily nodded. "Way longer."

. . .

Ben and Vivian Harmon were a happy couple again. Their problems had been pretty much resolved and they had twin babies on the way. Their daughter Violet had nearly perfect school grades and their niece Lily had made amazing progress in her psychological development. All was well.

Until the house keeper screamed, that is. Yes, all was well in the Harmon house until the house keeper let out that _terrible_ yell from the basement. She had gone down to find an old broom. The husband and wife were sitting at dinner when that horrid scream flooded into their ears.

"Moira?" Ben asked, though he didn't expect an answer.

Instead there were more screams.

Both the husband and wife simultaneously jumped up from the table where they sat discussing plans of their move and ran to the basement stairs. In the back of her head, Vivian thought about how Violet and Lily had never shown up for dinner.

When they reached the bottom of the stairs, they saw something that haunts their nightmares to this very day. They saw their little old maid on her knees, screaming and crying all at the same time. They looked farther into the basement and saw their daughter, their niece, and their neighbor; all three covered in their own blood and not moving.

Vivian fell to her knees besides Moira, unable to move or generate any kind of sound. Ben however, ran forward towards the body of his daughter. Her eyes were facing him, but they couldn't see him. She was dead.

Next he checked Tate, he was dead too. Finally, Ben Harmon mustered all the strength he had left in him and walked over to the body of his niece. As he expected, she was dead as well. But something was different about her body. For one, it still had the murder weapon in it, where has Violet and Tate just had open wounds. For two, there was a note lying next to her head. Ben reached out, picked it up, and read it over carefully.

"Oh my God!" he screamed. "NO, NO, NO!"

The sound of running footsteps filled the air, and a few moments later the Harmon's next door neighbor was standing with them.

"Oh no!" she yelled. "What the hell have you done to my son?"

Constance Langdon had come to LA to be an actress, and it was a good thing too. She had to make her reaction convincing. _Very_ convincing.

She ran over to Tate and grabbed his hand. "Tate . . . Tate I'm right here . . . come on Tate let's go home."

"Constance, he's dead," Ben chocked out. "They're all dead . . ."

"And in whose house?" Constance demanded angrily. She stood up, still holding Tate's arm. "No if you'll excuse me, I'll be going to my own house to phone the police!"

She took a stronger hold on Tate and began to drag him away.

"Ma'am you're ruining the crime scene," Moira said. Although they both knew very well what had happened in the basement that night.

"Crime scene?" Constance asked, her perfect acting never failing. "What crime scene? That note is all the evidence you need! It was that demon spawn you brought into this house, wasn't it? It was her who killed my son! Or perhaps it was your _slutty_ bitch of daughter!"

Constance continued to drag Tate up the stairs, and it wasn't until they were at the very top and out of the Harmon's eyesight that Tate stood up on his own and thanked his mother.

"I did what needed to be done," Constance replied. "I put on a show."

She left then, probably to call the police as she had promised. Tate followed her to the door, making a clearly obvious trail of blood so it looked like his mother really had dragged him all the way home. Or at least out the door.

Violet appeared by her _husband's_ side. "I'm glad that's finally over."

She fell into his arms and he told her, "No it's not. It's never over."


	18. Epilogue

**Disclaimer – I don't own American Horror Story**

. . .

Three days had passed since Vivian Harmon had seen her daughter's dead body in her basement; mangled and bloody. They had since taken her away. Along with her boyfriend and her cousin; the one who had done those things to her.

Vivian felt conflicted. She loved her niece but hated her at the same time. She missed her but was also glad she had paid for what she'd done. It wasn't right . . . it wasn't normal.

Maybe that's why she so willingly agreed to what happened next.

She sat alone on the edge of the bathroom tub. It was the only place of solitude. She and Ben would be leaving the next day to return to Boston to bury their daughter and niece. She only had to spend one more day in that awful house.

Tears poured down her face just like the rain outside. Thunder storms; how appropriate.

"I can make it go away," a familiar voice said. "The pain . . . Drink this."

Vivian looked up to see the blonde lady who had come to see the house a few weeks ago standing in front of her, offering her a glass of what looked like water. She was the lady who didn't like the pasta arm.

"W-what is it?" Vivian asked nervously.

"Just something to make you forget," Nora told her. She held it a little closer to Vivian. "Go on now. Drink up."

Vivian did as Nora said. Anything to get rid of the pain in her stomach.

"Very good . . ." Nora said. She held out her hand and helped Vivian to her feet. "Come now; the doctor will see you."

Nora led Vivian down into the basement. She resisted at first, but the medicine made her delirious, so it wasn't hard to force her.

When she got down there, Charles was waiting by the operating table.

"What are you going to do to me?" Vivian asked groggily.

"Trust me, I'm a doctor," Charles told her. "Doctor Charles Montgomery."

Vivian's eyes got a little bigger for a second; this was the best she could do to show her surprise. "But you're dead."

"Please Mrs. Harmon . . . lie down for a moment."

She nodded and did as told. Charles set to work, just like he had all those years ago. Only this time he had no son left to loose.

THE END

. . .

**Aojwrhgurouj2t4nwbfo;v'rw/;jrg DO YOU ALL HATE ME? Haha I hope you liked my story! I MIGHT write a sequel because I've got a few ideas swimming around in the jumbled up mess that is the mind of a mad-girl. Haha but seriously, want a second? I'm all for it I just want to know what you readers think. Thanks for all the reviews and subscriptions, I love you all!**


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